


Through The Lens

by Isabelle Hemlock (isabelle_hemlock)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Art School, Artist!Joe, Book Club AU, Book shops, Culture Shock, FLUFF MOTHEREFFER, Fake Dating, I'm dating a friend, Keane makes an appearance (he's still an ahole /faux gasp), M/M, Misunderstandings, Nude Modeling, NudeModel!Nicky, Otherwise it's an art college with Joe and Nicky falling in love /sigh yes!, Very very very mild angst (like squint and you'll see it, and all the tropes I could squeeze into one fic, art students, book clubs, coffeehouse AU, courting love, dark room make out sessions, decisions - decisionsss - on love and staying in America, everyone is mid to late twenties for the purposes of this fic, fast burn, fast burng, foreign student Nico, happy endings, it's a modern au, just a bunch of art students, karaoke Christmas party, messy paint make out sessions, poor Students, sorry there's no immortals here, starving artist trope, tSoA imagery/symbolism is thiq within this fic yall, trope of mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabelle_hemlock/pseuds/Isabelle%20Hemlock
Summary: Joe is an art student majoring in Illustration (with a minor in poetry) at the Merrick College of Art and Design (MCAD).  He might appear a little rough around the edges with his leather jackets and devil-may-care nonchalance.  But really he writes poetry on the side, and grew up with grand ideas about romance and love . . . just waiting for the right guy who can handle his intensity.  Because once he falls for someone, once he gives them his heart, it will be forever.Nicolò - Nico - is doing a study abroad program for a semester at MCAD.  He's studying photography, and deciding whether he might like to stay in America.  There's a little bit of culture shock happening, and when his student budget runs out he begins working odd jobs here and there.  He never thought that list might include modeling nude, but he cannot eat one more box of ramen . . . and it it happens to be in Joe's class (who he might have noticed around campus before ducking behind a column when he looked his way) -well, even better.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 108
Kudos: 120
Collections: The Old Guard Big Bang





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you Old Guard Big Bang 2021 event for hosting this wonderful collection, and I am so glad to get to finally share my BB fic with you all (feel free to check out my hype post [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/petersock/636081392582901760) with looks and a moodboard) <3 It's a fluffy, multi fic of 35k+ and as usual, I wrote more than I intended haha. Even though I rated this M, it really doesn't "earn" that rating till the final chapter, towards the end, but you'll see it coming ;)
> 
> I wanted to write something super fluffy, and how Joe and Nicky really do share the same brain cell, but keep having moments of "Oh, you really feel this way?" - mutual pining trope (but there's plenty of tropes in this fic, like a ton!). Though my main focus was just to show how adorable these two are <3
> 
> I know readers sometimes have their preference, so I just wanted to give a heads up, that though I do have Joe leading in the bedroom, there is _one_ line in the epilogue where Nico says, "make love to each other" that implies they switch. So explicit love scene with Joe on top, hint of switching in the epilogue. 
> 
> Oh and lastly, I do realize that Nicolò from Genova wouldn't be likely to nickname himself Nico, but in some Italian regions he could have, so for the purposes of this fic - even though I kept his last name as is - I like to imagine he's from a different region, because Nico sounds so gosh darn cute to me *o*
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the fic, and I welcome kudos and comments - but honestly can appreciate not everyone has the spoons for it some days! I appreciate the reads all the same, and I hope you enjoy it :)

* * *

_"He smiled, and his face was like the sun."_

* * *

The first time Nicolo saw Joe was through his  [ Pentax ](https://www.amazon.com/Pentax-K1000-Manual-Focus-Camera/dp/B001AO4JRK/ref=pd_sbs_13?pd_rd_w=3WZFI&pf_rd_p=ed1e2146-ecfe-435e-b3b5-d79fa072fd58&pf_rd_r=NXRQPSF9TFRV7MCJCZET&pd_rd_r=7511d6bd-1f29-42dd-975e-8740631cd8c2&pd_rd_wg=RajIa&pd_rd_i=B001AO4JRK&psc=1) film camera - with the 50mm lens to be specific. 

He had been exploring the small campus of the Merrick College of Art and Design, casually passing time until his meeting with his assigned student ambassador. Nicolò, who preferred to go by his nickname, Nico - always did enjoy the golden hour, and the way the sun bathed everything in a warm, radiant glow.

He had just spotted a grouping of flowers near a bench, about fifteen yards away that looked particularly colorful, and contrasted nicely with the white columns of the building behind it.

Raising his camera in front of his face, he closed one eye, and turned the lens  _ ‘just a little here - a little there’ _ , to get  _ just _ the right shutter speed . . . Yet right when he was about to click the button: a man stepped into the frame.

Nico jolted at his sudden appearance and lowered the camera, slightly embarrassed that he hadn't noticed other people nearby. No one had seemed to be aware of him though, and from their vantage point likely couldn't see him near the corner of the building. He knew he shouldn't  _ stare _ , but there was something that drew his eyes back to the man.

Maybe it was the leather jacket, or the curls piled at the top of his head. Maybe it was his skin that looked almost tanned under the flare of the sun at this time of the day. 

Nico never liked the idea of taking pictures of people without their consent. But he almost absentmindedly raised his hands and brought the camera back up. If he didn't show anyone, then perhaps he could justify actually developing the film later. He waited for just a moment, still debating whether he even should or not, but when the man laughed with his friends, Nico lowered his finger on the shutter - 

\- before he hurriedly ducked behind the wall of the building. 

_ One hour later . . . _

“I think that covers everything,” Nile, his student ambassador, closed the manila folder within her small hands, before beaming up at Nico, “Any questions?”

Nico mulled over the information she had passed onto him - though surely most of it was in the large packet he had already received - and shrugged his shoulders, “I do not think so?”   
  
Nile sort of tipped her head to the side, almost as if she was studying him, and for a moment he wondered if he had said something wrong. He had been studying English since he was a teen, but this was his first time outside of Italy, and he knew his accent was fairly thick. Even if he had used the right sentence structure, maybe he had blended the words together - “You aren’t interested in the campus tour? Or asking about student life?”   
  
Nico breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that she had understood him after all, “Oh, I - well I explored the campus earlier.” Besides, he was fairly certain that if he could navigate through the international airport on his own two days ago, he could handle a small college campus with the map in his packet.   
  
Nile however seemed undeterred, still smiling, “Good, I have done about ten of those this week already - so thanks for sparing me one more.” Nico gave her a small smile, before she turned to put the folder down on the desk behind her. She reached further across, picking up a stack of pamphlets, before turning back to him, “Here’s some of our local student clubs, it’s a great way to get the most out of the semester socially.”   
  
He looked down at the thick handful of leaflets, and hoped he didn’t sound dismissive, “I - thank you, but - I would rather focus on my studies. I’m only here for a semester.”   
  
She didn’t seem to take offense, giving a slight rise of her shoulders, before dropping them back onto her desk, “I can appreciate that.” When Nile popped off the edge of her desk, her long braids flopped behind her back, “But if you do change your mind, you have my card.”    
  
Nico thanked her for her help, especially helping coordinate a meeting between him and his assigned TA, Quynh, for the next day, before wishing her a good evening and heading to his student apartment. It was quickly shifting to dark, and though he had technically moved in a day and a half ago - he was still living out of his suitcase. The apartment was fairly bare, and though it came furnished, it was basically empty. The students were encouraged to ‘make it their own’, even allowed to paint the walls (so long they repainted it white when they moved out), but Nico was here for photography - he had no intention of ever getting close to paint.   
  
While he was fumbling with his key set, trying to remember which one went to the door (versus the locker, entryway, and assigned studio space), he heard a deep voice approaching, “Hi.”

Looking up, he almost dropped the packet, but managed to stiffen his arm against his side to keep it in place - though the keys fell to the ground. He rolled his eyes at himself, but the man simply held out a hand and lowered himself onto the balls of his feet, “Here, let me.”   
  
When he was upright again, he raised his hand between them, and Nico gave him a slight nod as he took the set back, “ _ Grazie _ \- I mean,  _ thank you. _ ”   
  
The man took a step closer, hands tucked in his pockets, “Not from around here?”   
  
_ 'That painfully obvious huh? _ ' “Italy -”   
  
“Whoa, long way to come for this place,” he sort of gestured around the space, and Nico wasn’t sure if he meant the country, or the school, “How long you here for?”   
  
“Just a semester.”   
  
The man leaned against the wall, as if making himself more comfortable, and Nico wondered if every American enjoyed approaching random strangers in a hallway - or if he was just the exception, “Well hey, I just wanted to introduce myself, because I’m right down the hall from you - Apartment C. So maybe we’ll run into each other from time to time? I’d love to buy you a coffee at the cafeteria sometime.”   
  
Nico could feel his stomach flip flop, because  _ one _ \- he hadn’t planned on having any sort of coffee with anyone, but  _ two _ \- he had completely forgotten to even introduce himself. He could feel his mother’s eyes boring a hole into the back of his head at his lack of manners, all the way from across the ocean. 

“Um, sure - maybe, tomorrow?” he quickly gestured a hand towards his chest, carefully balancing the things in his grasp, “I’m Nico, by the way.”   
  
The man gave him a smirk, pressing off the wall, as if suddenly trying to make himself seem taller - which didn’t take much, since he was, “Great, I’ll pick you up at noon?” Nico tipped his head in silent agreement, before the man began to step backwards, “And oh - my name is Keane.”   
  
He turned around, and continued to head towards his own apartment, while Nico finally unlocked the door to his. Stepping inside he dropped the paperwork on the chair in the living room, and put his hands on his hips, not quite sure why he wasn’t all that excited about getting hit on on his third day in America.    
  
_ It’s just coffee _ , his nerves tried to reason.   
_ American coffee _ , his mind retorted.

* * *

**Notes:** ha, plot twist of Keane at the end . . . who thought it was going to be Joe? @____@


	2. Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico has been struggling more than he lets on, but things get interesting when he's booked for an odd job.

* * *

_“I feel I could eat the world raw.”_  
  


* * *

_Two Weeks Later . . ._

Nico rummaged through the barren cupboard in his small kitchen. He could have sworn he had one more box of macaroni and cheese stashed towards the back, but he must have eaten it already.  
  
He slunk against the counter, leaning his head against the upper cabinet for a moment, and tried to ignore his grumbling stomach. It was his own fault for messing up the paperwork, but boy had he suffered the consequences multiple times over by this point.   
  
He had messed up some of his financial aid forms. His tuition and housing were all taken care of, all those specifics had been set well before he had even flown over. But once he got here, he was supposed to fill out some things for a line of credit for incidentals - which included food at the cafeteria. Either he had been too exhausted from his trip, or misread the forms all together, but he had turned it in too late and now had no way of affording food.

Worse, though his housing had been approved through the end of the semester, his plane didn’t actually leave till two weeks _after_ , and how Nico had managed to mess up _those_ dates - he’d never know. He’d love to blame the stress of insisting on planning everything on his own, but his fear was that maybe he wasn’t nearly as good with English as he had hoped he was. 

He had embarrassingly sat in Nile’s office three days after arriving, almost tearful as he shared what had happened, while she tried to help as best as she could.   
  
First, she raised the almost simple question of merely asking his family back home for money - but he had explained that they had limited funds for themselves. He didn’t want to burden them with one more thing to try to budget, not when things were so tight already. But also, his hope was to get his degree, network where he could here, and hopefully send money back to _them_ . The thought of asking them for help within the first week of arriving made him feel downright ashamed.   
  
Nile patiently walked him through his feelings, tried to encourage him that she doubted they would want to see him suffer - ‘ _but if you want to look into alternatives, I might have some ideas’_. 

She elaborated that luckily there was no shortage of odd jobs around campus. Most were student volunteers, but there was simply too much work to rely solely on free help. A few dollars here, a few dollars there, but with the job listings from her office, Nico was able to scrounge enough to make it so far off of dry goods and cheap box dinners.  
  
Well, until this week. Nile regretfully explained that she didn’t have any more options available at the moment, since Nico had pretty much done everything off the list. 

_And now_ , he pressed his forehead off the old cabinet, while his stomach grumbled in protest. Between the financial woes, the hunger, and the concerns over his language skills - Nico had barely enjoyed his classes. He sat in the back, didn’t engage with anyone, and kept his head down in the hallways. He wanted to blend into the background, and take his pictures, and have a good review at the end of the semester - but the thought of trying to socially engage, and enjoy college life, felt downright unattainable at the moment. Not when he could barely concentrate around the headache that was forming behind his temples.  
  
He rubbed the spot for a moment, wincing at the way the vein thumped against the pressure, before he heard his phone buzzing in his back pocket. The only person it could be was Nile. His family only ever called. He hoped it meant she found a job for him after all. Nico hadn’t told her his cabinets were empty, but maybe the deepening undereye shadows spoke volumes to her when he saw her the day before.  
  
He swiped at the screen, and read her message - his eyes widening as he processed the words:  
  
_Hi Nico! :)_ _  
_ _  
_ _I know u prefer the behind the scenes stuff -_

_So maybe this isn’t an option for you . . ._

_But - Professor Cara had a last minute cancel -_

_And he just called to see if I could help find him a model for his class today._

_Interested?_  
  


Nico mulled it over for a moment, before typing his response:

_Hi Nile_

_Thanks - I think I could do that._

_What time? Which class?_

_Great! Building 200, Class 301 - the figure drawing class._ _  
_ _And just to be clear - it would be nude modeling._

Nico paused for a moment. Not because of the nudity part - he wasn’t nearly as prudish about that as most American’s seemed to be - but because he doubted anyone would _want_ to draw him. But then again, he didn’t exactly have options here:

_That’s fine - what time do I need to be there?_

_Great! One hour please._

_Professor will meet you at the door._

_It’s 20 bucks, and he said he might need you at least once more later in the week._

The last message made Nico smile for the first time that week. He hadn’t had that much in days and he knew from recent experience, he could make that money stretch. He thanked her again, and then picked out an [ outfit ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/324540716903611757/) \- before chuckling at himself, because did it really matter what he wore to it?

Grabbing his keys, he shoved his small wallet in his back pocket and headed out to the academic buildings about five hundred feet away - grateful for a warm, but breezy day, that hopefully would prevent him from looking too flushed as he picked up the pace to make it in time.

Nico managed to arrive a good fifteen minutes early, hoping to give the professor a chance to look him over beforehand, in case he decided Nico wasn’t the right fit for the class after all. But it seemed to be a moot point, when Professor Cara merely smiled at him from the doorframe and expressed nothing else but gratitude at his last minute ability to help out. Before even stepping into the classroom, he produced a small fabric clutch right there at the door, and opened it to hand Nico a crisp twenty dollar bill, “I really do appreciate this hun.”   
  
Nico was still getting used to the varying accents around campus, but placed the Professor’s as a southern regional one, before asking where he would like him to - well he was about to say _‘change’_ , but he was just taking his clothes off. Professor Cara pointed to a large closet at the side of the classroom - which was a beautiful wide, white space, the ceilings mostly made up of skylights. He was told that he could use the sheet provided, and keep it around himself until he got situated in the middle of the room. Nico gave him a small smile before closing the door.  
  
He had just finished folding his clothes, when he could hear the students piling in. It sounded like it was luckily a small class of maybe ten - but it was _Keane’s_ voice that made Nico freeze, just as he had bent over to place his clothes on a small box near the supply shelf.

The man _had_ taken him for coffee that next day, but spent most of it making Nico uncomfortable with both the way he _looked_ at him, and the comments he made about _'life on campus.'_ He wasn’t necessarily _mean_ , or even vulgar, but something about the way he spoke about others made Nico uncomfortable. He was glad he had never given him his number, but that only meant he had to have awkward run-ins in the hallway instead. Keane kept trying to make small talk, and ask him out, and Nico was running out of polite ways to turn him down.

Nico stood upright, reaching for the sheet to wrap around himself. Suddenly feeling like his hands were clutching the fabric tighter than necessary to keep himself covered.

Even though Nico understood that nudity didn’t necessarily mean anything sexual, he feared the way Keane’s eyes would travel over his body once he stepped out there. 

But there was nothing he could do - he needed the money, and besides, as awkward as those eyes would feel on him, it wasn’t like Keane would be able to _do_ anything. So Nico took a few calming breaths, and waited for the professor to quietly knock on the door and explain they were ready for him. When he had, Nico turned the handle, sheet still draped around his shoulders, and followed behind him to the center of the room. The professor pointed to the soft velvet cushioned stool, and Nico stepped forward, hoping his face didn't reveal any of his inner thoughts.   
  
He had kept his head down to that moment, but unfortunately did spot Keane’s wide eyes almost immediately. Nico rolled his shoulders, catching the material in his hands, and tried to focus on just about anything else. Sitting down, he looked to the professor, quietly asking him how he’d like him to pose, “Whatever is comfortable Nico, thank you - I might have you change positions about halfway through.”  
  
Nico nodded, before trying to shift his eyes to another student - hoping to avoid Keane’s as much as possible. And that was when he spotted _him_ . The man from that very first day - the man who’s smiling photo was safely tucked away in his favorite art book, resting on his night stand. He was _here_ , and staring _just_ as wide eyed as Keane had. Except, when Keane looked at him, Nico wanted to shrivel away . . . but with this stranger, Nico felt decisively different.

Like he wanted to get comfortable, so he could _keep_ looking at him.  
  
Drawing his knees close to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his shins, before resting his cheek on them. A few strands of his hair fell over his eyes, and Nico watched as the man’s hand flexed - as if he almost wanted to brush it aside because they obscured the view of his eyes on him. But this was safer. The way the hair filtered the vision of the man helped Nico’s body from reacting, and kept the shade of his pink cheeks from being the focus of his face. Or so he at least hoped.   
  
Professor Cara instructed the students to start their sketches, and when the man looked back at Nico, he gave the stranger a soft smirk. 

* * *

  
**Notes:** next up . . . Joe's perspective ;)


	3. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe gets an eyeful, and comes to the rescue . . .

* * *

_“In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and lights spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun.”_

* * *

Joe had been noticing Nico around campus for almost two weeks now. 

The stranger who seemed to look like had one too many things on his mind, and wanted to fade into the background. Which was interesting to Joe, because to him, the man stood out even from a distance. One time, when he saw him in the hallway, he _almost_ approached him - but Nico kept his head down, and Joe wasn’t even sure what to say. They didn’t have any classes together, and except for a camera hanging around his neck, and a notepad in his hand, Joe couldn’t tell anything else about him.

It wasn’t until a few days ago when he had just happened to be heading to Nile’s office to drop off a book from their book club - and saw Nico leaving it - that he finally was able to learn his name. He tried to play it cool, but Nile looked at him like she saw right through his curiosity, and down to his interest. She said she couldn’t share too much, but that his name was Nico - and he was Italian - . . . . _‘and only here for a semester’_.

His heart sunk at the idea, because Joe was not interested in anything casual, and he doubted he could have a guy like Nico for a few months only. Reluctantly he had resolved not to encourage any sort of relationship, and to play it safe, he decided not to even talk to him after all. 

_Except now_ , there he was, standing with a sheet around his bare shoulders.

Joe barely had a chance to gulp, as it registered what he was here for, before Nico dropped the cloth. 

His mouth went slack, and he _really_ hoped he didn’t let out the low moan that his brain echoed around his mind at the sight. Nico was already a gorgeous man in Joe’s opinion: from the way the strands of his brown hair framed his face, to his Roman nose, and sharp jawline. He had noticed the mole near his light pink lips, and the way his cheek muscles clenched just above it, like he was concentrating too hard - and of course, he had sort of noticed his bright eyes, but hadn’t gotten a good look with how Nico preferred to keep his head down. 

But him standing there, in all his natural beauty, made Joe think of Michaelangelo’s _David_ statue. A classical sort of beauty. And Joe felt like he could trace his fingers along the small curves of his muscular body, as Nico sat down on the stool just feet away from him.

He had looked uncomfortable for a moment, and Joe watched as his eyes shifted, glancing around the room. But when they locked on Joe’s face, he paused, as if he somehow recognized him. And Joe, who until that moment had never had been able to see those eyes up close, felt himself leaning forward slightly. Like he could get lost within them. 

Nico’s slightly embarrassed expression from before, now shifted to something more akin to resigned comfortability, and Joe watched as he got into a position - where he could seemingly _keep_ looking at Joe.

Was Joe imagining things? Reading too much into that stare? 

_Probably_ \- but when Nico rested his cheeks against his knees, some of his hair fell over his memorizing sea glass colored eyes. Joe resisted the urge to walk over and brush the few strands behind his ear, but his hand gripped his pencil so hard, it almost snapped in half.  
  
“Okay everyone, let’s begin - fifteen minutes, and then we’ll have our model switch positions.”  
  
Joe tried to listen to his professor, but even the slight tilt away from Nico made his mind want to glance back at him. And when he did - Nico gave him the slightest smile. No, a _smirk_ , like he knew the effect he was having on him.   
  
The professor put on some classical music, and it helped drown out the thoughts swirling in Joe’s mind - at least enough for him to start sketching in earnest. He made quick work of it. Desperate to return his gaze to Nico’s soft, deep set, eyes every time he had to glance back to his pad. But it was no use. As talented as Joe was, he didn’t feel like he was doing the man justice. The muscle composition, the shading along his rib cage, the texture of his hair - it just didn’t seem to match with the vision of the real thing. 

Sure, it was good enough in a _technical_ sort of way, but Joe wondered how many more times he’d be allowed to study that body at length in order to capture it properly . . . 

“Alright, fresh sheet of paper please - “ Professor Cara stepped closer to Nico, likely suggesting he move into a different position, and Joe quickly flipped to a blank sheet within his pad. He wondered what new pose he would do, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight when Joe looked over at him.

Nico was now sitting on his legs, his back almost fully towards Joe, and his feet framing his round, _perfect_ ass. Worse, as Joe’s eyes slowly traveled up his slim waist, and towards his broad upper back, he saw that Nico was watching him - looking back at him from over his shoulder. His eyes gleamed under the thick lashes, his mouth obscured, but something in that look implied he knew _exactly_ what Joe was thinking.

Maybe Joe was completely misreading this, but it seemed like Nico was flirting with him, and at this point his fingers shook a little as he tried to get the curve of his butt cheeks just right - the toes that curled just underneath them. The second sketch was more askew than the first one, and Joe was fairly certain he would need to beg Nico for a photograph so he could practice some other time. Except how to word that request without sounding like an absolute creep alluded him at the moment.

Joe, who had resigned himself to never talking to Nico, worried how easily he could fall for him - now reflected on the possibility of how to convince him to extend his semester to a full academic year. Maybe Nico would stay if he had someone to stick around for . . .  
  
“Alright everyone, time to pack up,” Professor Cara turned off the music, and quietly walked over to Nico, inviting him to get dressed in the closet, and Joe tried not to drool when he bent over to pick up the sheet. As soon as the door had closed, Joe began to hurriedly pack up his supplies, determined to at least introduce himself properly to him now that class was over.

But by the time he had slung his large pad carrying case over his shoulder, he watched none other than Keane approach the closet first. Joe hadn’t liked the guy all that much from the get go. Something about the way he leered at the other models - though then again, wasn’t that what Joe had just been doing with Nico? He reasoned that his intentions were a bit more honorable than whatever Keane had in mind, surely, and decided not to be deterred from his original plan. If Nico said _‘no’_ to his invitation for coffee that was one thing, but he certainly wasn’t going to miss a chance with him solely because that guy had walked over to the closet before he had.

He only paused for a brief moment when Nico opened the door, because he looked just as stunning in his outfit, as he did nude. The way the top two buttons were left open on his soft shirt showed off a hint of his broad chest, and now knowing what was just beneath the surface, made Joe’s hand grip the shoulder strap a little tighter. He wondered if Nico’s skin felt as smooth as it looked.   
  
But he pressed forward as soon as he saw Nico’s uncomfortable stance at the sight of Keane. Joe wasn’t close enough yet to hear what Keane was saying to him, but Nico’s eyes shifted almost nervously away. Either they had met before, or the man just had a knack for making people uneasy within minutes of meeting them. He wasn’t being aggressive, but there was something about the way he leaned into Nico’s personal space that simply didn’t sit right with Joe. Even if he wasn’t personally interested in Nico, he would still feel the need to walk over and make sure he was okay. 

He came up with an impromptu idea, that seemed like an almost middle school sort of move, and of course, maybe Nico would be _totally_ embarrassed by it - but when Nico’s eyes looked over Keane’s shoulder, and spotted Joe, there was a pleading hope in his eyes that propelled him forward with the plan anyways, “Hey babe - you looked beautiful.”  
  
Joe moved around Keane’s large frame, and completely ignored the daggers he could _feel_ coming off from him. Nico looked like he was trying to compute what was happening, but when Joe stepped beside him, _and took his hand in his_ , Nico actually leaned into him - and Joe almost forgot what he was planning on saying next. The warmth he felt trailing up along his wrist, climbing over his arm, and settling into his heart, was almost overwhelming. And when Nico’s eyes gleamed up at him, Joe felt like his mouth went dry -  
  
“ _Oh_ , I didn’t realize you two - “ Keane’s voice was likely aiming for disappointed, but it sounded more like disgust.

It made Joe snap his eyes over at him, and Keane actually closed his mouth at his harsh look. He felt like saying something to him, and was just about to - when Joe felt Nico give his hand the slightest squeeze. And the silent move stilled him. Joe didn’t look back at him just yet, but decided to ignore Keane’s questionable stare, “Come on Nico, they’re waiting for us.”

Nico allowed Joe to lead them out of the otherwise empty classroom, and down the bright hallway towards the entrance, before he quietly spoke up, “I - thank you for that.” 

His heavily accented words felt like a soothing balm over his frustration with Keane’s behavior, and Joe wanted to desperately coax more from his lips. When Nico tried to pull his hand back, Joe saw the perfect opportunity to keep the physical connection, and hopefully encourage conversation, “We should make it look good till we round the corner, in case Keane is watching.”   
  
Nico looked away when Joe glanced over, but he saw the faint smile on his lips, “Um, you know my name?”

“Mm, yeah,” Joe realized he might have to explain that one quickly, before Nico considered him some sort of stalker, “I saw you come out of Nile’s office the other day - I was curious about who you were.”

“About me?” Nico sounded almost bashful, not at all how Joe had imagined he might be considering the looks he was sending his way when he was nude. But then again, looking at someone versus holding their hand and conversing, were two different things. 

However even with the potential of slightly embarrassing him, Joe couldn’t be anything less than honest at this point. Not when he noticed the quickly approaching building entrance, and the possibility of Nico walking away from him soon, “Don’t be so surprised, you are quite beautiful.”

He caught the way Nico’s cheeks flushed a little at his words, and though they had now reached the doors, Joe only reluctantly let go of his hand, “My name is Joe, by the way -.” He waited for Nico’s gaze to lift to his, hoping he sounded more sincere than whatever Keane had proposed, “um, I have a shift at the bookstore in half an hour, but are you free? I’d love to talk to you some more if you wanted to walk over there with me.”  
  
Nico seemed to study his face for a moment, before giving him a shy smile, “I - I’d love to, Joe.”

The way his name sounded with his accent made his heart flutter, but hopefully he wasn’t being too obvious. Joe moved back a little, holding the door open for Nico to pass through first, and he got a whiff of some sort of shampoo, or cologne. He managed to at least hold himself back enough not to outright sniff him, but only just. As they descended the stone steps, Joe’s hand felt cold, and empty, but he shoved them in his black jeans to avoid reaching out, “So, Italy huh?”  
  
Nico, who had been looking ahead, seemed to turn his head away a little, “Sorry if my accent is hard to understand.”

“Wh- _no_ ,” Joe literally paused mid step, and Nico stopped all together to look back at him, “I think it sounds amazing.” 

His lips curved in such a way, like he was trying to contain his smile at the compliment, and Joe resumed walking, while Nico kept in stride with him, “What made you come to America for your studies?”  
  
Nico rolled his shoulders back, as if there was some tension he was carrying, and Joe wondered if he had maybe inadvertently picked a tough subject for him. He did share a little about it, like how he was studying photography, and hoping to eventually network and build a good portfolio. It all sounded so professional in comparison to most of the students on campus. Being an art college, the majority loved to share about how wonderful it was to focus on their creativity. To build connections, and meet fellow ‘left brainers’. And yet here was Nico, discussing it like a business venture. It sounded downright mature to what Joe usually responded with when asked the same question.  
  
And of course, as soon as Nico was done, he did ask Joe the same . . . and for a moment, Joe wondered if he should try to speak of it differently. If somehow his verbal flourish on his dual studies would come across more whimsical than academic. But it felt equally wrong to present himself as anything but who he was. He decided to stick with the basic facts, and let Nico ask questions if he had any, “I - I’m majoring in illustration. With a minor in poetry.”  
  
“Poetry? I would not have thought you’d be interested in that.”  
  
Joe grinned, “Because I’m a guy?”  
  
Nico tilted his head a little, “More because of the leather jacket.”  
  
That made Joe laugh, and Nico at first seemed surprised, like maybe he hadn’t meant it as a joke - but his laughter seemed to be contagious, because Nico’s shoulders gently shook, too, “I guess I’m full of surprises.”  
  
They had just approached the bookstore, and Joe had maybe twenty minutes to spare before he had to go to work. He technically didn’t need the money, his parents sent him a monthly allowance from his trust, but he liked being able to have something productive to do and a little extra cash to stash away that was just his own. Besides it was fun to hang out with his friends three times a week, no matter how scattered they were with classes and schedules, “Have you been here before?”  
  
Nico shook his head, and Joe explained how it was separate from the supply bookstore of academic books on campus. This one was student run, an independent bookstore, that also had a small coffee shop. It wasn’t the best coffee in the area, but cheap, and the college let them rent the building for pennies on the dollar, “Once a month, we host a book club. And every two weeks, we do poetry readings.”  
  
Nico smiled, “Is that why you love it?”  
  
“One of them,” Joe beamed, “Come on, I’ll give you the ten cent tour.” 

Joe held the door open again, and this time when Nico passed through the smaller opening, he was certain he detected an almost citrus like scent. He immediately walked behind him, pointing out some of his favorite sections with his hand, but the place wasn’t all that big - at least not in comparison to the supply bookstore a few buildings over. However it did feel much more comfortable. There was plenty of seating, with various vintage couches, and chairs strewn near the large windows on either side of the door. And more in the back, just passed the ten large bookshelves lined up along the edges. 

In the center though were seven small tables, with equally small chairs, and Joe led Nico to one - while waving over at Booker from behind the counter with a warm greeting, “Hi Booker, two coffees please.” He turned to look down at Nico who was already seated, “How do you like yours?”  
  
Nico suddenly looked a little shy again, or maybe, nervous? Joe wasn’t quite sure how to read the expression, “A cup of water is fine. You - you don’t have to pay for anything.”  
  
Joe waved that off easily, “It’s a _dollar_ Nico - now come on, how do you prefer it?”  
  
He hesitated for a moment, then sat up a little straighter against the wood chair, “Two sugars, and cream please.”  
  
Joe repeated the order louder for Booker, whose back was to them. Once he gave a thumbs up that he had heard Joe over the other voices in the shop, he finally took a seat across from Nico, “So, can I ask if you already knew Keane beforehand, or does he just have the effect of cringiness on all new acquaintances?” 

Nico shifted his weight uneasily in the chair, and Joe worried he had managed to overstep, hopefully Keane hadn’t done something inappropriate, “I - I met him two weeks ago. And he actually lives down the hall from me.”  
  
“ _Oof_ , sorry.”  
  
He glanced up at him, looking a little unsure about saying more - and Joe was just about to suggest they could change the subject if he’d prefer - but he was glad Nico elaborated before he had the chance to, “He took me out for coffee on like my third day here.”  
  
_Oh._ Joe wondered how that must have gone, but Nico’s face sort of said it all, even before he went on to share some details. Of course he paused when Booker called Joe over for their coffee’s - and reminded him his shift started in five minutes. If he planned on inviting Nico to the poetry reading that night, he should probably get a move on. Placing his order in front of him, Joe took his own seat again, and was just about to ask when Nico spoke up first, “To sum it up - dating seems kind of horrible right now.” 

_Double oh_ . He could feel his shoulders slumping, though luckily Nico was looking at his cup, and hopefully didn’t see the disappointment on his face. Part of him wanted to be bold, and say not all dating had to be bad, but the truth of it was, Joe had done casual plenty as a teen - and he was looking for something more now. Bragging about how great college dating was, would be disingenuous coming from him, since he hadn’t actually dated anyone since arriving two years ago. No one had peaked his interest, save Nico.  
  
He had gotten so caught up in his initial attraction, that he had sort of slammed on the gas pedal - and maybe he needed to slow down. If anything he could still invite Nico to tonight’s gathering, but taking things slower was probably a good idea. Trying not to word it like a date, Joe wrapped his fingers around the warm cup to help ground him better, “I can appreciate that - might be nice to just, well hang out and enjoy the company of other students.”  
  
Nico stared at him, likely uncertain where he was going with this, “There’s a poetry reading tonight for the Book Club, here at eight. It’s right after my shift ends, and we clean up the place a little bit - there’s only like ten of us, but you’re more than welcome to come if you’d like?”  
  
He tried not to sound too eager, or pleading, but he couldn’t help the way his eyes roamed over Nico’s face. Thoroughly transfixed by the way his jaw clenched for just a moment, as if he was trying to figure out how to respond, “ . . . I would love to.”  
  
Joe could feel his relief fade any hesitancy away, and he lifted his cup to his mouth, trying to hide his broad grin, “And hey - in the meantime, if we run into Keane together, I’m happy to play your boyfriend anytime.”

Nico, who had also begun to raise his cup, paused for a moment, likely trying to discern if Joe was being serious. He gave him a wink for good measure over the rim of the cup, and Nico glanced down, smiling, “I - I would appreciate that. Thank you.”

They both took a sip at the same time, and made equally disgusted faces at the taste.

Nico reached for a napkin from the center of the table, dabbing at his mouth, “I’m sorry - that -”

“ - Is the worst coffee in the area, I know, _sorry_ .”  
  
Joe offered to buy him a soda instead, but Nico dismissed the idea, and asked if it would be alright if he hung out for just a little while to _‘browse around the shelves’_ \- and Joe, who had dreaded watching Nico leave, easily encouraged him to stay as long as he’d like.   
  
Though how exactly he was going to be able to focus on his shift, was anybody’s guess.

* * *

**Notes:** pretty flipping adorable, right?? xD  
  



	4. Book Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico learns a little more about Joe, and the others . . . and finally checks out the local Book Club.

* * *

_ “There was more to say, but for once we did not say it . . . He let go of my hand.” _

* * *

  
  


Joe had disappeared behind a door just past the coffee counter, and Nico was left alone at the table, trying not to be obvious at just how undone he had managed to become by this man.   
  
It had been one thing to sort of flirt with him while he was posing in the classroom, though really, where  _ that  _ sudden boost of confidence came from he had no idea. Maybe it was because he had stared at Joe’s picture for the last two weeks, and wondered if he would ever have the opportunity to hear the laugh, and not just look at it from afar. Now that he had actually conversed with Joe, Nico found he had exceeded all his expectations. 

Joe was charming, and warm, and friendly.

It felt easy to talk to him.

Not once did he feel like Joe was judging him for his accent, or probable mispronunciations. Their conversation felt comfortable, almost natural. 

Nico hadn’t planned on making any sort of long term relationships in the country, or really even casual acquaintances, but when Joe invited him to the book club, he agreed to it easily. He couldn’t wait to tell Nile, she had been pushing him to dip his toes in campus life for the last two weeks . . . though he likely would leave out the flirting, and fake dating bits.

Because frankly, he still couldn’t believe that had even happened.

When Joe had approached him, Keane had just stepped into his personal space, suggesting that Nico seemed to be _ ‘avoiding him’ _ , and really, he had no idea how to answer that question without hurting the man’s feelings. He didn’t want to appear mean to the guy, but Keane did seem to be moving awfully close to him . . . 

And then Joe appeared like a knight in shining armor - and took his hand in his.

It felt warm, and strong, and Nico wanted to melt into the touch.    
  
If Keane suspected they were just pretending, he didn’t call them out on it, but then again, it likely looked real enough when Nico was ready to follow Joe anywhere he planned on leading him. Any concern he had had for Keane’s feelings sort of fell to the wayside, and Nico unashamedly followed Joe right out of the classroom and down the hallway. 

Really he hadn’t even thought of him once since that strange encounter, until Joe asked first - and though he had been honest, and shared how horrible that date went, Nico had been trying to hint that maybe it would be different going on a date  _ with Joe _ .   
  
Because really he seemed so different then what he had imagined he’d be. 

Just the way he dressed, with his leather jackets, black boots, rings and ear piercings - he viewed Joe as someone suave, and debonair. And in a way, he  _ was _ , but Joe was also funny,  _ and _ artistic,  _ and _ studying poetry. And he wanted Nico to come that night to hear him read some . . .

He knew he would be counting down the hours, and likely picking out a different outfit, something that maybe showed off his arm muscles better -  _ anything _ that might encourage Joe to ask him out for something more formal. He hoped that Joe joking about ‘pretending’ to be Nico’s boyfriend might mean he wasn’t completely opposed to the idea.    
  
Realistically, Nico knew it couldn’t end well when he had to leave in a few months, and he certainly didn’t want to lead Joe on - but he was curious to feel Joe’s hand in his again . . .   
  
“Are you done with that?”   
  
“Hm?” Nico lifted his head to the blond man who was pointing at the cup in front of him, “Oh - um,  _ si _ .”   
  
He leaned over, picking up the almost full beverage, “Couldn’t finish it, huh?”

“I - I’m sorry,” Nico instantly apologized, but Booker -  _ ‘Joe called him Booker, right?’ _ \- merely waved his hand as if it was no big deal.   
  
“Nothing to apologize for, it’s pretty bad I know,” he tossed it into the small trash container in his other hand, and shrugged, “but most of the Americans can’t seem to tell the difference, and it keeps the store affront.”

“I - your accent, where are you from?”   
  
“France,” Booker stood a little taller, gesturing between the two of them, “you’re Italian, right?”   
  
“Mmhm,” Nico leaned his elbows on the table, “are you doing the exchange semester, too?”   
  
Booker placed the trash can on the seat Joe had used, and gripped the back of it, “Well - I did, like two years ago.”   
  
“Oh,” Nico contemplated that for a moment, “you - you decided to stay?”   
  
“Yeah, too many good things here for me,” Booker smiled, but not necessarily at Nico, more like he was reflecting on a fond memory, “I graduated a few months ago actually - and now run this place full time.”   
  
“You don’t want to go back?” Nico couldn’t imagine just  _ staying,  _ and potentially  _ never _ returning.   
  
Booker grinned, “I still visit my family once a year, but this place isn’t so bad.” 

The door chime rang, and Booker raised his head to greet the newest customer, while Nico wondered if maybe he should ask the man more questions about sticking around longer than planned . . .

“Hey Booker, can I get the usual for Andy and I, she’s running like ten minutes late.” 

Nico instantly recognized the accented voice as his TA, Quynh, and she seemed to spot him at the same time Booker picked up the can from the chair, “Of course.” He dipped his head back to him for a moment, “Nice to meet you, Nico.”   
  
“Nice to meet you, too.”   
  
“Nico!” Quynh had just reached the table, and beamed, “Hey, I’m glad to see you out and about finally.”   
  
Between Nile’s teasing of him needing to leave his apartment more often, and now Quynh’s comment, Nico wondered if he was coming across as a hermit to everyone. He tucked his chin close to his chest, “Hi Mrs. Scythia.”   
  
“So formal,” she smirked, though he detected a tease to her tone, “it’s just Quynh.”   
  
“But,” Nico gave a weak protest, “you’re my TA.”   
  
She glided into the seat Joe had been using, “Just Quynh, I insist.”   
  
Nico had only talked with her twice, and wasn’t exactly sure what to talk about outside of the context of photography work. So he decided not to argue logistics of names, and gave a simple reply, “Okay.”   
  
Booker had just returned with an iced coffee in each hand, placing them near Quynh before glancing at Nico, “These are better than what comes out of the hot machine - if you want one.”   
  
He hoped it wasn’t obvious, but Nico looked just past him, and seeing the cost of one, decided against it. Nile had said Professor Cara might hire him again, but that wasn’t guaranteed. He politely declined, and blissfully no one pressured him to change his mind. Booker retreated back to the counter not far away, and Quynh asked if he minded if she stuck around till Andy arrived.

Nico didn’t mind - was just about to tell her as much - when the door in the corner opened, and out walked Joe. He was wearing a red apron over his black tshirt, and unlike before, when Nico had only gotten a hint of his toned arms behind his large sketchpad - now they were on full display. It made him wonder what they would feel like flexing under his hands. Joe’s eyes lifted, immediately looking over at him, and Nico hoped it wasn’t obvious that he had been staring. But still, even when caught, he didn’t look away - and neither did Joe.   
  
Both paused for a moment - until Booker snapped his fingers near the counter, and Quynh turned around to see what was going on. Nico slunk back in his chair as soon as Joe hurried over to Booker, and Quynh slowly faced him again, “ _ Oh _ ? New couple alert?”

Nico was pretty sure his ears were getting red, and he was extremely grateful his hair was long enough to cover them, “Um,  _ no  _ \- Joe and I just met -”  _ when I was posing nude . . . cazzo, do  _ not _ say that part out loud. _ He cautiously met her eyes, and when she seemed to be silently encouraging him to continue, he took a deep breath, “He - was trying to help me out when this guy came on a little too aggressive.”   
  
Quynh’s brow furrowed, as if she was a little worried, “How so?”

Not knowing if she meant the question in regards to Keane, or Joe’s, actions, he decided to focus on the later, “He walked over and acted like we were dating, like held my hand and we walked out together - so that way the guy will hopefully leave me alone.”    
  
Still Quynh seemed concerned, so Nico elaborated a little further, “He’s been sort of hounding me for a little while now, and I thought I was being clear but -” _ . . . maybe I didn’t explain it right in English. _ He was feeling a little guilty about the possibility of a language barrier potentially having led Keane on, “To be honest, I feel a little bad for tricking the guy into letting him think we were dating.”

Quynh chuckled, “Sometimes a little trick can go a long way.” 

Nico asked her what she meant, and she went on to share how she had been so nervous to approach Andy, that she had spent months just watching her from afar. With only about a month left in her exchange program, she decided to finally make a move. She had seen how though reserved, Andy would help hold doors open for people, or carry large supplies for some students struggling -  _ ‘she seemed like the type to help a damsel in distress.’ _

His eyes widened a little, “What did you do?”   
  
Quynh took a sip of her drink, and flipped some of her hair over her shoulder, “Well, I saw her pulling up for class - and when she wasn’t looking, I pretended to trip on the grassy hill.” She raised her hands in front of her, “Literally threw all my supplies in the air, dropped to the ground, and they  _ woosh _ landed all around me.”

Nico leaned a little closer, thoroughly entranced, “Then what happened?”   
  
“She laid there, till I walked up to her, bent over and asked if she was  _ ‘alright’ _ .”

Nico’s head snapped over to the right, where a tall, slim woman stood. Her black hair hung just past her jawline, but her eyes were transfixed at Quynh who merely leaned back in her chair and looked up at her with such affection it made Nico feel like he was invading their privacy - in the middle of a public bookstore, “And I said,  _ ‘I think so,’ _ and sure enough - she sat down beside me on that grassy hill -”   
  
Andy leaned over her, bent at the waist, and gave her a small peck on the lips. She hovered for a moment, her thumb brushing along Quynh’s cheekbone, “And the rest is history.”   
  
Quynh bit her lower lip for a moment, and Andy pulled back, before grabbing a nearby chair. Only then did she seem to reshift focus, and look over at Nico, “I’m Andy, by the way.”   
  
Nico blinked, and sort of managed to raise his hand to gesture at himself, “Mm, Nico.”   
  
Andy leaned back in her chair, reaching for the iced coffee that was for her. After a sip, she pointed it at Nico, but addressed her question to Quynh, “Not that I mind, but what sparked the trip down memory lane?”

Quynh gave a quick recap - of Nico’s troubles with Keane, and Joe swooping in for a rescue - but still, he did feel guilty about tricking him. And repeated as much back to Andy when Quynh was done talking.

Andy who had already managed to drink half her coffee, shared her opinion nonchalantly, “He sounds like a _ jerk _ \- besides Joe isn’t the kind of guy to be dishonorable. If he lied, and thought it was necessary to play the fake dating card, then he had good reason to.”   
  
That made Nico shift in his chair, though hopefully he didn’t sound too excited at the prospect, “You two _ know _ Joe? I only talked to him today - “   
  
“We’re all friends,” Quynh beamed, “Booker and I graduated together, and met during the exchange program - ”   
  
“You stayed here, too, then?” Nico wondered what the odds were for that to happen. Now he had two people to talk with if he considered extending his semester to the full year.   
  
“Yeah, seems to be a bit of a joke around here that two people stuck around in America for love,” Quynh leaned close to Andy, giving her bare shoulder a small kiss, and Nico looked down shyly, though he did think they were quite cute together. But she had mentioned two people -  _ ‘was the other Booker?’ _ When Quynh nodded, he went to ask who he stayed for, but was surprised by her answer, “Nile Freeman, she’s a student ambassador.”   
  
“She’s  _ my _ student ambassador,” Nico chuckled, before speaking more to himself than them, “I had no idea.”

“I’ll let them share their story,” Quynh reasoned, “but  _ basically _ Joe and Booker became fast friends, and bonded over soccer games - and then Joe introduced him to his best friend, Nile - and now they’re dating and going strong, and run the book club together.” 

Nico couldn’t seem to help himself, he wanted to know more about Joe, though hopefully he didn’t seem too obvious, “So, Booker and Nile, and you and Andy - what about Joe?”   
  
Andy pulled back from her straw, and deadpanned, “The perpetual fifth wheel.”

Quynh guffawed, giving Andy’s arm a playful push with no real weight behind it, “ _ Well _ , Joe  _ would  _ make a great boyfriend if he ever gave anybody a chance.” 

There was  _ no way _ Nico couldn’t ask what  _ that _ meant, but once again it was Andy who explained, “He’s old fashioned.”

Quynh nodded, and Nico looked past her - at Joe who was rummaging behind the counter and seemingly organizing some cups on a shelf . . .

_ ‘I like old fashioned things.’ _

_ That night . . .  _   
  


When he had left the bookstore earlier, Joe waved him off, and Nico wanted to walk over to him - give him his number, say something,  _ anything _ . . . but he didn’t want to disrupt him while he was trying to work. Besides, he had still needed to go to the small corner grocery store near the campus, enjoy an  _ actual warm _ meal, _ and _ find something that would look good for the evening. Something that would maybe cling to his chest in all the right places.

He had still been debating if he had made a  [ right outfit choice ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/324540716904025517/) , up until the moment he walked through the store doors ten minutes before eight. But seeing Joe’s eyes widen at the sight of him, helped settle Nico’s nerves. He casually walked right up to him, neither seeming to notice several other members browsing the shelves nearby, and greeted him with a warm smile, “Hi.”   
  
“ _ Hi _ ,” Joe did not hide the way his eyes traveled down his shirt for a moment, before he hurriedly looked back at his face, “you look -”

Nico raised an eyebrow at Joe’s pause, assuming he was aiming for a complement, but he was curving his mouth like he was trying to find the right words for it. 

He tried again, “You  _ look _ \- “ Then he closed his mouth all together, and smiled, “Good.  _ Nice _ . You look nice.”   
  
Nico tried to stifle a laugh, because Joe sounded more flustered than he had ever imagined he could be, and the way he ran his hand over the back of his neck, as if he was equally as nervous, seemed downright endearing, “Thank you, you do, too.”   
  
Joe grinned, a little lopsided, and it made Nico’s eyes feel hazy. He so wished he could capture photos of Joe’s smiling face from the front. The one he had developed was a mere profile shot. And as gorgeous as it was, it still didn’t do the man justice when compared to his full face. Maybe one day he could ask Joe to pose for him - 

“I’m glad you came - let me introduce you to everyone.”

For a brief moment Nico thought Joe was about to reach out and take his hand in his as he led him further inside. He had moved his arm a little, and his hand sort of flexed, but then he turned on his heel instead, and Nico figured he had simply read too much into it. 

Some of the tables had been shifted back a bit, and a small platform that served as a stage was arranged near the right window. Heavy, thick, velvet curtains were draped over it - both for privacy, as well as creating a backdrop for whoever planned to speak at the microphone. Some vintage looking Edison bulbs were strung across, and the overhead lights had been dimmed to create quite the romantic tone for the space. Nico hoped he’d be able to sit on one of the couches nearby, and  _ accidently _ brush a knee against Joe’s. 

Most of the Club already arrived, and they each greeted Nico with warm smiles and waves. He felt a little shy throughout, hoping that no one minded his accent, or when he needed a name repeated to make sure he had understood it right. But all in all, they seemed to be quite the welcoming bunch. Joe remained close at his side, more than once bumping against Nico as they shifted through the room, and sometimes awkwardly from person to person. Yet they both laughed it off every time, and when it was all said and done, they found themselves a spot towards the back - a green, two seater, that had definitely seen better days.   
  
Joe had just suggested for Nico to pick a side first, when the back room door swung open, and in walked Booker and Nile carrying trays of finger foods. The small crowd cheered, and Booker warned not to eat it all in five minutes  _ ‘like last last time’ _ , before Nile paused all together when she spotted Nico, “You came!”   
  
Most of the attendees were too distracted by food to pay her any mind. She easily weaved around them and walked right up to him, “I’m so glad you’re here Nico, welcome.”

Nico gave her a sheepish grin, not quite sure how to explain that he hadn’t come because of her insistence, but because of Joe’s invitation. But she seemed to put it together when she glanced over at Joe, “Oh, _ oh _ \- are you here together tonight?”

They both gave quick retorts of  _ ‘no’ _ , which were in no way convincing, even to themselves.    
And Nile, who seemed to see right through it as well, tilted her head a little - her long braids cascading down her shoulder, “Well, Mr. Al Kaysani, you’re up  _ first _ .”

Joe gave a playful huff, rolling his eyes, before looking back to Nico, “Be right back.”   
He had a pep in his step as he made his way around the room and towards the stage.   
  
Booker, who had arranged the trays _ just so _ on the coffee counter, scanned the room for Nile - and waved over once he spotted her. He gave Nico a quick greeting too, while Nile held up a finger implying she’d be over in a moment. Joe had just reached the stage, tapping on the mike to make sure it was on, before greeting everyone.    
  
While he went on to explain the course of the evening - a few poems to be read, before book club business of voting on the next book to read - Nile leaned a little closer to Nico, her voice barely above a whisper, “So, I guess the nude modeling work turned out well?”   
  
Nico’s eyes widened, and he looked down at her, “How - how did you know that’s where we met today?”   
  
Nile gave a sly smile, folding her arms across her chest, eyes focused towards the stage, “Joe’s my best friend - I know his schedule.”   
  
“Did you -” Nico wasn’t even sure how to word it, praying he didn’t offend her somehow with the implication, “um, plan for us to meet?”   
  
Nile moved a little closer, her blouse pressing against his silk shirt, “The work was real, if that’s what you’re asking -” Then she looked right up at him, “But I might have purposely left out the part about Joe being there.”   
  
Nico pursed his lips for a moment, and teased, “And you didn’t want to mention you knew him when I talked about the stranger I photographed that first day?”   
  
Nile feigned offense at the implication she had lied, “I really didn’t know it was Joe till you brought the picture to my office the next day.”   
  
He chuckled, his hands on hips, and looked back towards the front of the room, where Joe seemed ready to start reading, “So, you only lied  _ after _ I showed you his picture.”   
  
Nico could feel Nile shift a little closer, as Booker walked over, “I think I feared you wouldn’t take the job if you knew he would be there. I hope I didn’t offend you.”   
  
The sincerity in her voice made him look down at her, easily able to assure her of the opposite, “Nile, I feel like I owe you a  _ ‘thank you’ _ card.”   
  
Her shoulders relaxed a little, and she dipped her right one against his for a moment, before taking Booker’s hand and finding a seat nearby. Nico sat down on the green couch behind him, his hands folded in his lap, and finding it not hard at all to keep his focus directed at Joe - who was now unfolding a piece of paper in front of the microphone stand.

“I chose tonight’s poem from one of my favorite poets, Nizar Qabanni - I’ll read it in Arabic first, and then follow it up with the English translation,” Nico had no idea Joe could read Arabic. He had wondered if his ethnic background was of Middle Eastern origin, but of course hadn’t made an assumption that that would automatically mean he could speak Arabic. His voice sounded just as soothing in the unfamiliar language, and Nico even closed his eyes for a moment as it carried over the room.   
  
When he started the short poem over in English, Nico’s eyes immediately opened by the second line:   
  
“ _ Undress yourself. _

_ For centuries _

_ There have been no miracles. _

_ Undress yourself, _

_ I am mute,  _

_ And your body knows all languages _ .”

Joe looked directly at him, and Nico felt like his cheeks were warm. His hands curved over his knees, gripping them for balance, as if he could tip over if someone as much as flicked at his arm. Part of him didn’t want to read into it, surely he had already picked out a poem for the night . . . but the way Joe  _ kept _ looking at him, made Nico feel like he had read it for him.  _ About _ him.    
  
The group clapped, and it broke the moment between them. Booker climbed onto the platform, and Joe patted his shoulders with a wide grin, before descending and making his way towards him. Nico looked down at the wood floors, trying to think how he should react: whether he should feign ignorance over the possibility of the words being for him, or flirt, and let Joe know how interested he already was in him.   
  
“What did you think of the poem?”   
  
Nico raised his head, his shoulders almost at his ears, as he slowly looked over at Joe. For someone who had sworn off making friends in the country, he was almost ready to fall right into those dark eyes that shined when they looked at him. Joe was already sitting beside him, and the way he radiated warmth made Nico want to lean into him. There was definitely an attraction there, but Nico wanted just as much to know more about him as person, too, “I - I didn’t know you could speak Arabic. Can you converse in it, or just read it?”   
  
Joe pulled one arm back, leaning it against the edge of the couch, his hand dangling between them, “Converse in it - well,  _ roughly. _ My parents came to America when I was a baby.”   
  
Nico smiled at that, “So that’s why you don’t mind my accent -”   
  
Joe raised his index finger, gliding it over his bottom lip like he was thinking of something, and Nico’s eyes felt heavy as he followed the movement, “I wouldn’t say  _ that’s _ why.”   
  
“Mm,” Nico didn’t follow, still looking at his lips for a moment too long, and likely letting Joe know  _ exactly  _ the effect he was having on him. Joe lowered his hand, and Nico glanced down, trying to get it together. He was just about to ask him about his  _ ‘why’ _ \- but the second person had just finished reading their poem choice, and once again the room filled with the noise of clapping.    
  
Joe and Nico were the only ones who hadn’t joined in, still staring at one another.

Until Nile’s voice cut through, “Earth to Joe - we need our secretary for the vote please.”   
  
Nico turned his head towards the stage, grateful that no one seemed to be staring at them, while Joe chuckled and leaned a little closer to him, “Duty calls - be right back.”   
  
He practically bounced off the seat, and headed around the tables, while Nile explained the book options to vote on. Nico slunk back into the sofa, practically feeling overheated. He needed to slow down. He barely knew anything about Joe, about who he was as a person, just the effect he was having on him. He desperately  _ wanted _ to get know more about him, but it was almost like it was hard to think when he was so close to him. At least with some small distance, Nico could refocus on not being distracted by the cologne Joe used - and simply listen to his melodic voice instead.

Nico had had no intentions of joining the Book Club, and certainly didn’t plan on voting on what they should read next . . . but afterwards, when the group decided on  _ ‘The Song of Achilles’ _ for next month, he immediately decided to use some of his limited funds to look for a used copy on the shelves behind him. 

He prayed Professor Cara would need him again soon.

But somehow, even the prospect of hunger didn’t deter him.

Not when he saw the way Joe’s eyes lit up when he asked for his help to find the book.

* * *

  
**Notes:** it's all about that tSoA symbolismmmm <3  
Also, fyi, Quynh and Andy's story? Where Quynh saw how kind Andy was, but didn't know how to approach, so she pretended to fall so Andy would help and they could start talking? . . . It's mine and my husband's story :) I tricked him into talking to me xD (and yes, I did tell him on the first date haha)


	5. First Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe and Nico get to know one another, and he books another session . . .

* * *

_ “This, and this, and this.” _   
  


* * *

_ One week later . . . _

Joe had been living in la la land for the last seven days.    
Not only because of his growing friendship with Nico, but also he kept giving Nico his coffee. 

It had started innocently enough. The next day after the Book Club meeting, Nico had walked in before his class, and they flirted shamelessly with one another (though the Italian seemed to blush whenever Joe leaned a little too close). Booker of course teased them that instead of flirting, Joe should maybe take Nico’s coffee order. Joe laughed it off easily enough, but Nico gnawed on his bottom lip like he was a little embarrassed. Only when Joe continued to press, did Nico sheepishly admit he didn’t get paid  _ ‘for a few more days’ _ \- and Joe immediately offered to get him one anyways. 

Somehow that didn’t sit right with Nico, he narrowed his eyes, as if he didn’t like the idea of him paying for him. So Joe panicked, and  _ lied _ : saying he got a free drink with every shift of his, and he would love to pass it on to Nico. Worse, when Nico  _ still _ tried to dismiss the offer, Joe lied  _ again, _ and said he didn’t drink coffee himself. So basically Nico was doing him a favor by  _ ‘not letting it go to waste’ _ .    
  
He looked at Joe for a moment, a little unsure, before quietly asking for the iced coffee option. 

He said it tasted much better than the other cup they sold, and Joe asked him to keep coming back - there would always be one waiting for him. Nico promised he would, before heading out to his class.   
  
Joe was still looking at the door, watching Nico walk towards the building across the courtyard, when Booker leaned close and joked that every order would come out of his paycheck. Joe shrugged his shoulder and grinned right back,  _ ‘worth it.’ _

And now every morning after, Joe would avoid his own coffee cup, and wait for Nico to arrive. He’d get him an iced coffee, and they would chat casually, while Nico drank it at a nearby table. Only interrupted here and there when a customer needed an order rung up. 

Joe wasn’t much of a morning person to begin with, but having to get up at five in the morning, be ready for his shift at six - and then forgo coffee till Nico left the store at eight thirty for his nine o’clock class - was really starting to wear on him. He worried his sleepy demeanor might be having an effect on his conversation skills, but so far, Nico didn’t seem to notice. 

At some point he’d likely have to admit the truth to Nico - it was only a little white lie after all - but the more he was getting to know him, the more he liked him. Yet neither had made a move, and Joe was starting to worry his plans of taking it slow, might have given Nico the impression he wasn’t nearly as interested as he was. If Nico learned that the coffee wasn’t really free, would his pride be wounded? Would he feel tricked?    
  
When Nico talked about his photography work, and about how he wanted to send money back to his family, Joe got the sense that financials were tight. He wondered if some of that tension he carried in his shoulders were some sort of expectations that he was somehow responsible to provide for his elders. Joe understood the general concept from his own family background, but his parents came from upper middle class. He had an apartment off campus that was paid for, and a monthly allowance, and a small trust waiting for him once he graduated. He could empathize, and of course, didn’t discuss his own financials - in case it made Nico feel self conscious - but Joe couldn’t exactly relate to Nico’s lamentations of  _ ‘waiting till payday’. _

There were plenty of people on campus who joked about living out the  _ ‘starving artist’ _ trope, and Joe usually just smiled along with them, feeling a little bad about his own circumstances. His friends knew of his background, and it wasn’t like he was  _ trying _ to hide it - just a little worried that maybe someone might imply he was somehow ‘disconnected’ from creating art for the masses who might not be as fortunate as he was.

. . . and now he worried, maybe  _ Nico _ would think that.   
  
Just one week of conversing with him, and Joe realized that what Nico thought of him, mattered more to him than it likely should. But he couldn't help it. He felt both this desire to impress the man, but also this vulnerability to want to talk about the things on his mind. Like  _ ‘The Song of Achilles’. _

Joe was elated when Nico asked to read it, too. Booker had rung it up for him that very night, and Nico and him exchanged numbers so they could text each other as they read it. And the deeper they dived into the book, the more parallels Joe began to relate to. He thought of Nico as Achilles, a classical sort of beauty, that he couldn’t help but stare at - and every evening he kept working on the sketches he had made of him in class, trying to capture it properly. But then again, Nico was also like Patroclus, preferring to be in the background and seemingly always mindful of how much time he was taking away from Joe’s shift. Trying to ensure he didn’t get him in trouble with his job. He was more reserved than Joe’s more boisterous personality. 

The other day, Nico had texted him the line, ‘ _ He smiled, and his face was like the sun _ ’ and then explained how Joe’s smile reminded him of the sun, too. He must have stared at that text for a good five minutes, hoping Nico really did feel the same as he did. That when he talked about being  _ ‘moved to tears’ _ reading some of the pages the night before, that he wasn’t offended when he wrote back that he would  _ ‘happily wipe them away’ _ .

Nico took ten minutes to respond, and simply texted a  _ ‘:’)’ _ before saying he was going to bed.

Joe had to accept that between the morning chats about family, and art classes, and then the evening texts about the book,  _ and _ Nico asking him to send him more Arabic poetry . . . he was falling head over heels for the man. He hadn’t even touched him again, not since that very first time when he held his hand and pretended they were dating. If he liked him this much already, and they hadn’t even  _ kissed  _ yet -    
  
Joe had hoped to be able to convince Nico to extend his stay.

Now he was reaching a point where he was ready to  _ beg _ him.

That morning, he was still setting things up for Booker in the backroom. He normally only did afternoon shifts on Fridays, but had asked Booker if he could switch for the morning, so he could meet Nico again. Booker rolled his eyes and said, _ ‘of course’ _ , but also suggested he should  _ ‘maybe just ask him out already.’ _

Just before Joe could answer though, his phone buzzed and he hurriedly reached for it, hoping it might be Nico . . . and sure enough it was:   
  
_ Good morning :) _

_ Guess who booked another session for your class today . . . _   


Joe’s heart immediately picked up speed, and a shot of pleasure shot down his lower stomach . . . he had stared at the naked sketches of Nico, and embarrassingly imagined him sitting like that on his bed and - 

_ Me, the answer is me, Joe. _

He was so lost in the thought, he had forgotten to respond, and hurriedly typed away:

_ Sorry! I was distracted -  _

_ tell me all about it when you come for your coffee ;) _

But he was slammed by disappointment when Nico replied:

_ Sorry I can’t make it this morning - I need to work on some film development _

_ I’ve been quite inspired lately :)  _

_ But I did have a favor to ask - ? _

Joe leaned against the door frame, still a little sad not to see Nico that morning after all, but curiosity won out and he texted him back quickly:

_ What kind of favor? _

The little typing bubble dots appeared, then disappeared, and appeared again - almost like Nico was either writing him a novel, or trying to figure out how to word the request. After a moment, the text appeared, and Joe couldn’t help but give a broad grin as he read it:

_ Pretend to be my boyfriend again? _   
  


Joe typed one word:  _ ‘gladly.’ _

Nico went on to explain he’d meet him a few minutes before class, just outside of the building, so they could walk in together. Then he thanked him - like Joe really was  _ just  _ doing him a favor, and not making Joe’s dreams come true. Was there a possibility that he hadn’t been nearly as obvious as he had thought he’d been? Did Nico maybe not realize this wasn’t just some sort of casual flirtation, but that Joe was genuinely interested?    
  
Maybe he would just need to be direct, and hope that Nico wanted something more as well. 

He shoved his phone in his pocket, and came up with a plan.   
  


_ Several hours later . . . _

Joe was waiting by the building, in his  [ usual style ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/324540716903609231/) of clothes, and gently tapping his boot against the stone step. Nico said he was nearby, and Joe was trying to keep his nerves in check. Both because of the plan he was hoping to implement that evening, but also because he was about to get another view of Nico’s naked form. He just needed to play it casual for a little longer . . .   
  
“Hi.”   
  
Joe spun around, and felt his fingers curl into fists, trying to prevent himself from pulling him close. As usual, he looked stunning - his  [ outfit ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/324540716903329017/) was casual, but the way he always left those top buttons open, made Joe want to dip his finger along the collar and pull it back from his chest. 

_ You’re about to see him naked, don’t be such a creep. _ “Hi -” Joe tried to relax his hands, and offered a small smile, “ - nervous?”   
  
Nico took a step closer, his hands shifting to his back pocket, and Joe got a whole eyeful of the muscles under his collarbone stretching from the movement. He hoped Nico couldn’t hear the gulp he made, “For the fake dating part, or the nudity part?”   
  
Joe’s eyes roamed up to his face slowly,  _ really _ wanting to lean closer . . . the attraction he felt towards Nico, this pull, was different from his past experiences. It had become almost this long running joke among his friends that Joe was so  _ ‘chaste’ _ , and  _ ‘old fashioned’ _ . When really - he was just tired of dating. Of the casual stuff. And he knew there were other people on campus who surely wanted something long term, too. But no one had peaked his interest like Nico. 

He wanted to court him, romance him, and seduce him. 

Draw him, and read him poetry, and _ shit  _ \-  _ write  _ poetry  _ about _ him.

And he hadn’t held his hand in a week . . .

He never did answer Nico’s question, just slowly raised his hand between them.

Nico took it easily. His warm, long fingers gliding over his palm, before curving around the edge. 

And just like before, something clicked into place in Joe’s heart.

He couldn’t wait till that evening when he hoped to show Nico just how much he meant to him. How much he inspired him.

Nico looked up into his eyes, and Joe wondered if one day he’d be able to read each and every emotion within them. If he would know what he was thinking, or feeling, by glance alone, “Joe -”   
  
Joe gave a quiet,  _ ‘hm?’ _ but it wasn’t till the cloudy sheen of his thoughts dissipated that he realized he had been staring at Nico in silence for a little too long. He had taken a step closer, suddenly looking a little concerned. Had he tried talking to him, and somehow didn’t register it? “I’m sorry - what?”

Nico shook his head a little, giving a coy smirk, “I said,  _ ‘are you ready?’ _ ”

_ Definitely _ . “Mm-hmm.”

They headed up the steps, and once again Joe held the door for Nico. This time though, when Nico stepped inside, Joe picked up more of a pomegranate scent, versus the citrus one from last week. He wondered if that was some sort of influence from the book. And he made a note to ask him about it later. 

Professor Cara approached right away, likely to lead Nico towards the closet to undress, and Joe reluctantly let go of his hand. He wanted to touch more of him - to tell him how beautiful he thought he was. When he had started to draw other sketches based on him, he couldn’t decide what part to focus on. He found all of Nico equally captivating, from the way his hair fell over his ears, to the way his eyes gleamed in the sun. Or the curve of his cheeks in his pants, and the flex of his arms when he leaned them against the table at the store.    
  
And now he was going to see him nude again. 

Considering that both of them had solely held hands to trick Keane into thinking they were dating, neither one of them even bothered to see his reaction. Which was likely a good thing. He was sending daggers at both of them, and seemed to grumble to himself when Nico opened the closet door.    
  
But there was no way that Joe would be able to process anything, beside the absolute vision of Nico, who seemed far more comfortable this time than the week before. He easily found Joe, and gave him a little smile, before dropping the sheet.   
  
_ Fuck _ .

* * *

**Notes:** next up . . . some mild angst *_*


	6. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico hears some things, and comes to a decision.

* * *

_ “There are no bargains between lion and men.” _

* * *

Professor Cara had asked if Nico minded standing, versus sitting like last time, just to help the students get a different perspective. He didn’t of course, understood the technicality behind it, but still - unless he made sure to keep his back to Joe - he’d be unable to hide his groin within a seated pose, or resting his hands in his lap. This time,  _ someone _ would be seeing his penis depending on the direction he faced, even if just for a moment before he hoped to move his hands in front of it.

Of course over the last week, he had spent far too much time imagining the possibility. 

Wondered if Joe would look at it with the same sort of reverence his eyes tended to roam over the rest of his body.    
  
Nico was aware of the effect they were having on one another, didn’t want to deny that, but he also wanted something different this time around. He had his experiences with both men and women back home, but with Joe, he wanted the art and the poetry, too. He loved being able to read the book together - to send little messages of their favorite passages. He was even honest one night when sharing how much it moved him he was  _ crying _ . And when Joe had said he would want to wipe his tears away, Nico cried  _ harder _ , but out of joy.    
  
Joe helped him discover things he hadn’t known about before - like the Arabic poetry. He had no idea how flowery, how whimsical it was. And when Joe sent him poem after poem, it spoke to Nico’s heart, and he no longer wondered why Joe chose poetry as a minor. The way he spoke of it, the way his face lit up talking about it, was contagious, and Nico devoured every link he sent him.

In turn, Nico opened up about his family. How he hoped to help provide for his parents eventually (though he didn’t share just how poor they were, or how dire his own situation was). He did talk at length about how much he was now photographing. The happier he was, the more excited he was to walk around campus and capture the things he hoped would look good for his end of the semester review. He had developed them all this morning - and some were of Joe, diligently working behind the counter, and around the shop, while Nico used the guise of taking pictures of “the shop” to secretly capture more of him. He still didn’t think his pictures gave the man justice - it couldn’t capture his loud laugh, or the way his shoulders shook when he did. Nor how his curls bounced a little when he tilted his head. 

And Nico wondered if he could really be the only one circling in Joe’s orbit. He radiated such warmth, like the sun, and surely he couldn’t be the only one transfixed by it - drawn in. Was he just another celestial body, caught up and lifted from the ground - or could he be like the moon to Joe? The only satellite he saw from where he was standing. He  _ wanted _ to be. He  _ hoped _ he was. And though he had never expected any of this, he quickly realized that even after just one week, he wanted to show Joe his pictures. Wanted to tell him how he knew they didn’t do him justice, but that as long as he was here for, he wanted to  _ keep _ taking his picture - and keep reading poetry together. He wanted  _ more _ . And he was ready to tell him as much that night. 

But first, he’d give him a little preview.

Standing in the middle of the room, Nico dropped the sheet, not immediately trying to hide anything - and had to bite the inside of his cheek to not laugh, when Joe dropped his pencil. While he bent over to pick it up, Nico got into position, covering himself with his hands as best as he could. He leaned his weight more on his right hip, and it gave his side more of a curve. Finally he moved his left foot slightly behind the right, bending his knee, before he rolled his shoulders back and looked back up.   
  
Joe pursed his lips, like he had caught on that Nico was teasing him, but the smirk was just beneath that look, and Nico winked back at him.

When Professor Cara started the music, Nico kept his face on Joe, enjoying how his eyes darted back and forth between him and the pad. If he was reading it right, the shift of color, that made them look almost black towards the end of the fifteen minutes likely meant he was feeling the same kind of desire that Nico was. When it was time to switch positions, the professor quietly stepped close, asking if he minded using the sheet to lie down on the ground. Nico asked if he preferred him on his back or on his stomach for it, and he suggested back,  _ ‘only if you’re comfortable of course.’ _ _   
_   
He thought about it, but only a moment, he really didn’t mind - but likely he’d have to look away from Joe. Being completely bare in front of him,  _ and _ seeing his eyes over his body would likely make any sketches pornographic - he chuckled to himself and nodded, “That’s fine.”   
  
The Professor stepped back, and Nico slowly lowered onto his knees. He piled the sheet, hoping to use some of it to drape over him a little bit. Then he sank down onto the cool fabric, turning his back towards Joe. He laid down completely, resting one arm over his stomach, the other bent at the elbow, with his hand near his hair. He crossed his legs at the ankle, the sheet draped over his thighs, but not hiding his private area whatsoever. He glanced over to the Professor, and he turned on the music.    
  
This time, Nico did not try to look back, or flirt, in fact he closed his eyes - and even out his breathing. He did not want to worry about accidentally getting excited in the middle of a classroom. He focused on the notes of music reverberating around the space, the way they helped relax him. He could feel the clouds shifting above, and some of the rays from the sun spilled through the sunlight. Nico wondered if it would remind Joe of Achilles, of the way the shadows, and sun, danced across his face.    
  
He had been so focused on the rhythm of music, that Nico hadn’t realized how relaxed he had become, almost meditative - until the professor turned off the music. He invited Nico to go redress, and though he wanted to look back at Joe, he wasn’t quite ready yet. Worried that his face might reveal things a little sooner than planned. He needed a few minutes in the closet, to build an emotional wall - just for a few more hours, before he hoped to share the pictures he took with Joe that week. Hopefully his art would be able to say it better than his words likely ever could.   
  
He had just finished putting everything back, taking the new twenty dollar bill from his back pocket and putting it in his wallet, before folding the sheet. He had just opened the door, and spotted the professor next to Joe, bending over his pad and discussing something, likely whatever he drew, of Nico. He had been itching to see what he had drawn of him last week, but Joe insisted it was a rough sketch at best,  _ ‘better wait till it’s done’ _ . Now the professor and Joe were studying whatever he had done today, and Nico found himself absentmindedly drifting closer, hoping to at least get a quick glimpse. Hopefully Joe wouldn’t mind - 

“Nico-”   
  
He froze at Keane’s voice. He had honestly thought that everyone had left already, and was surprised when he turned slightly, and saw Keane walking up to him. Blissfully he did not step as close as he had last time, and oddly, Nico hadn’t seen him since last Friday. No awkward run ins in the hallway or laundry rooms. Nothing. He wasn’t sure what to say, and his silence seemed to spur Keane to try again.   
  
“Can we talk in private some time?” Nico was already starting to shake his head  _ ‘no’ _ , when Keane hurriedly added, “It’s about Joe.”

He glanced over at Joe, his head still down at his pad, seemingly unaware of what was going on across the room - he wasn’t sure if he should agree to it, but Keane raised his hands in front of him, “Just to talk - promise.”   
  
Nico was curious what Keane could possibly want to discuss about Joe. But knowing he had planned on asking Joe to meet him in the evening, he decided whatever Keane wanted to share, would likely need to be before that. He quietly suggested the courtyard nearby,  _ ‘in half an hour’ _ , and Keane nodded before leaving the classroom.

He turned back to his original intention, of hopefully seeing Joe’s sketch of him, but once he looked over, saw that his pad was already tucked away in it’s carrying case. Now it was slung over his shoulder, and he was making his way over to him. Between Keane’s words, and the missed opportunity, Joe paused when he reached him, obviously seeing something akin to disappointment in his eyes, “You alright?”   
  
_ No.  _ “Um, could I see what you sketched?”   
  
Joe made a face, like he was uncertain about the idea, but hurriedly explained when Nico couldn’t help the sadness shining in his eyes, “I - Can I show you tonight?”   
  
That surprised Nico, since he had planned to ask him for some time tonight, “When? Where?”   
  
Joe grinned, seemingly relieved that Nico wasn’t somehow offended at not sharing the sketch right away, “Maybe five? At my studio - room 84 in Building 2.”   
  
Nico knew his photographs were already ready in a simple binder, safely tucked away near his bed. He could easily bring them with him that evening, and hopefully share his own art with Joe. And his feelings, “Perfect.”   
  
Joe smiled, then seemed to realize something, and it faltered a little, “Hm, looks like Keane left already - “   
  
_ Oh _ . They didn’t really have a reason to pretend to be dating, if Keane wasn’t around. And though Nico could take the moment to simply take his hand anyways. He wasn’t even sure if Keane could be already waiting outside of the building, in the courtyard, to talk  _ about  _ Joe . . .    
  
“- But I’ll see you five, right?”    
  
Nico offered a weak smile, “Definitely.”   
  
They walked out together, side by side, both keeping their hands in their pockets. Nico suspected their mutual silence was likely for similar reasons, both disappointed at the lack of physical connection, and missed opportunity. It gave him hope for tonight. Hope that maybe Joe liked him, too.   
  
And when he passed through the door, Nico moved slowly, looking up at Joe as he glided past his body, “See you soon.”   
  
Joe sucked in a breath, and it made Nico step out of the building with a sly smile, though he tried to look down and not let him see. He could hear Joe’s boots descending the stone steps quickly, heading towards his own dorm most likely, while Nico made his way over to the courtyard.

Even though he had another fifteen minutes to spare, he was glad to see Keane already sitting on a bench nearby. He wanted to get it over with, so he could reshift his focus on that evening. But he was also a little nervous to sit down with the man. He reached inside his small bag that had his camera, and notepad inside it, and pulled out a small water bottle. He figured it would help him to have something to hold onto, and not look like a nervous fidgeting mess.    
  
When he had reached the bench, Keane looked up with a smile, but Nico didn’t want to pretend to be happy about their meeting. He merely sat down, as far away as possible from the man, and gently squeezed the bottle, “So -”   
  
“So,” Keane cocked an eyebrow, “How are you?”   
  
Nico sighed, worried that maybe Keane had made up some sort of trick to get him to sit here, and Nico felt like an idiot for falling for it, “You said you wanted to talk about Joe -”   
  
Keane rolled his eyes, sort of kicking his booted heel on the soft grass, “I’m worried about you Nico - a guy like Joe, he’s taking advantage of you.”   
  
Stunned, Nico’s eyes widened, “Wh- What are you talking about?”   
  
Keane gestured with his hand as he explained, seemingly getting more irate with every word, “That guy only wants one thing from you. He’s a total player.”   
  
“How -,” Nico could feel his hands shaking a little against the bottle, “How would you know this?” It was a heavy accusation to hurl against Joe. But if Keane had some sort of evidence -    
  
“It’s a little joke in the studios that the man hasn’t had a boyfriend in two years,” Keane gave a dismissive huff, then looked directly at Nico, sending an uncomfortable shiver down his spine, “That’s because he just does casual hook ups.”   
  
Nico’s fingers clutched the bottle so hard, the plastic made a noise in protest from the pressure. His mouth felt dry, his heart beat fast, and he hurriedly uncapped the top, needing to take a long swig of water. Joe was a charming man, certainly could have his pick of just about anybody on campus. He had questioned why Joe was even interested in him to begin with. At first he had wondered, especially with how kind and helpful everyone had described him as - that maybe Joe really had just grabbed his hand a week ago to help him out. That he wasn’t being flirtatious  _ per se _ , but just was that sort of friendly with anyone. 

Keane basically confirmed Nico’s worst fears . . . and then the man had to go and emotionally punch him in the gut for good measure.   
  
Nico had just lowered the now half empty bottle to his lap, when he saw that Keane had slid down the bench to move closer to him. Not terribly close, but enough that Nico leaned back against the edge of the railing, “Nico, I know things are a little tight financially.”  
  
He narrowed his eyes at him. How Keane would know about that, he had no clue - unless, had he somehow seen Nico rummaging through the free shelf near the cafeteria? He wasn’t the only student who benefited from it, but he visited it several times a week. Maybe Keane had noticed the pattern, and how he only ever carried a few items at a time in his grocery bags. Maybe Keane was smarter than he looked. Embarrassed, Nico looked down, really not wanting to talk to Keane about it of all people.   
  
Keane had rested his arm on the back of the bench, his hand awfully close to Nico’s shoulder, and he was now slowly moving it closer, “Look, I know Joe has money, but if you’re that desperate for it - I have more.” Then he brushed his finger against his arm, on the exposed skin just underneath the fabric of the shirt, “I’d be happy to take care of you.”  
  
 _Cazzo._  
  
Did Keane think that Joe was his - what was the term, ‘sugar daddy’? Only around for the money he would be providing him? And in exchange for what? His body?  
  
And - Joe had money? He had never mentioned anything to make Nico think that. He did dress nice, but so did Nico - and all his clothes came from second hand stores. Out of all the things Nico had shared with Joe about his own family’s circumstances, he now realized that Joe had never shared anything about his own family. _But -_   
  
Nothing else that Keane said made any sense.

Why would Booker, Nile, Quynh and Andy all talk about how ‘honorable’ Joe was? How ‘old fashioned’? And really, if anything, Nico had been more physically flirtatious than Joe had been all week. In fact, he seemed downright restrained compared to the hints Nico had been dropping. If all he was aiming for was a quick hook up, wouldn’t he have made a move sooner?   
  
Keane’s fingers glided over Nico’s shoulder, and he jerked it back, giving him a cold stare, “You - you know  _ nothing _ about him.”   


Of course, Nico couldn’t know for  _ sure _ \- but he trusted Joe’s actions, and his friends’ words, over Keane’s dubious intentions. And when Keane realized Nico wasn’t falling for whatever he had planned here, he moved quickly and leaned forward. Though whether it was to grab him, or to possibly kiss him, Nico didn’t know - and he wasn’t going to wait to see. He moved just as quickly, splashing the remainder of his water bottle into Keane’s face.    
  
He flung back in surprise, looking as angry as ever, while Nico hurriedly rose to his feet, “Leave me alone, Keane. Don’t ever talk to me again.”   
  
He could hear Keane shouting something in frustration, but Nico was already walking away, refusing to waste the energy on the man. He practically jogged to his apartment, hoping Keane wasn’t following behind him, and luckily he wasn’t. Still, between Keane’s words and actions, his hands were shaking so bad, he dropped his keys twice before managing to unlock the door. He jolted inside, slamming the door and locking it before he finally felt like he could manage a deep breath.   
  
Resting his forehead against the cold door, he slowly slank down till he reached the floor, and inhaled thick gulps of air around him.    
  
He began to process Keane’s words all over again, running them through the filters of his mind, and trying to discern if there was any truth to them. He doubted it, but what if? What if Joe  _ had _ money? Would he somehow think less of Nico’s apartment? Could he ever allow him inside? Would he frown at his empty cupboards? Would he be embarrassed to introduce him to his family someday?    
  
Nico already felt so self conscious about his circumstances, but that was a point he hadn’t considered before just then. What if they did start dating, and Joe insisted on paying for things? Would Nico even allow him? Would they only ever go on a date, when he managed to scrounge enough to afford his fair share?    
  
_ ‘No’,  _ his eyes snapped open, _ ‘no, stop’. _ _   
_   
Was he really going to let money stop him from even trying? It was bad enough that he was scrounging for pennies for food, but to allow it to even prevent from sharing his feelings that night? No, his financial status had enough control over his life, he wouldn’t give it matters of the heart, too.   
  
He would stick with his plan: go to Joe’s studio, bring his art, and tell him how he felt.

Slowly he raised himself off the floor, even  _ more  _ determined. Whatever happened next, Nico insisted he’d have the integrity to at least follow through with his intentions.

_ Two hours. _   
Just two hours, and then he’d head to Joe’s studio.

* * *

**Notes:** next up . . . that rom com "I know what my feelings are now, and I'm ready to declare them after I run to you!" - moment <3


	7. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did somebody ask for *checks tropes list* _messy paint make out session_?

* * *

_ “We reached for each other, and I thought of how many nights I had lain awake loving him in silence.” _

* * *

Joe wasn’t usually this fidgety, but as it got closer to five, he found his hands were a little shaky. 

Though it was more from adrenaline than nervousness. He was certain he hadn’t misread the looks Nico gave him, sure that there was  _ something _ brewing between them. But it had been a while since he had dated, and he felt a little rusty as he mulled over exactly how he planned on admitting his feelings to him. He figured he’d start with the finished sketch of Nico from the week before, hoping it impressed him, but also allow him to explain how he didn’t think it did him justice. It didn’t capture his beauty properly, nor could it show how endearing his accent was, or the way his eyes pierced right through him. 

He hoped he didn’t come across too intensely, or worse, wasn’t what Nico wanted after all.

Joe had also started working on a painting of Nico as well, but wasn’t ready to share that with him yet. He made sure that one was hidden under some fabric in a corner behind some blank canvases, before making his way over to the sink towards the far end of the studio to clean the paint brushes he had used. He watched the water turn from a muddy brown of mixed colors, back to clear within the basin, thinking he had at least a good ten minutes before Nico would be there - 

\- but suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Joe turned around just in time to see Nico standing there, looking as if he had practically  _ ran  _ over. He was breathing hard, his cheeks flush with a soft pink tint, but he didn’t say anything. His hand gripped the door handle, as if he needed something to cling to, and Joe was concerned. He hoped something wasn’t wrong, and hurriedly turned off the water, and wiped his hands on the rag nearby, “Nico, are you alright?”   
  
Nico’s shiny eyes locked with his, and Joe realized the gleam within them was a watery sheen. As if he was emotional. Genuinely worried now, he stepped away from the sink, slowly approaching, “Is - is something wrong?”

Nico glanced down, shook his head, and closed the door behind him. He tossed a binder onto the small table where Joe kept his leather jacket and keys, then slowly turned back around. His chest was still heaving slightly, and his fingers flexed at his side. Joe was unsure what was going on, but he felt desperate to take away whatever had caused his silence. He was so close, but he paused mid step, not sure if he even wanted Joe to reach for him, “Nico?”   
  
Nico’s gaze shot up to his, his lips parting as if he was about to say something, but instead, he pressed away from the door. It only took him two paces to step up to Joe, before he paused in hesitation, studying his face. Whatever approval he was looking for, he must have found it in Joe’s stare. Because Nico raised his hand to glide over Joe’s side, warm fingers sliding just under the space of his ribs, and curving towards his back. 

The touch felt like a jolt of electricity that aimed straight for his heart, making it thump within his chest. Nico looked up at him from under thick eye lashes, his lips swollen and wet, like he had been biting them. And all Joe wanted to do was taste them, to lean in and see if they fit perfectly against his own. He slowly raised his hands between them, to cup that sharp jawline where the muscle flexed when he made contact with the skin, before he felt his own eyes grow heavy, “ _ Ni- _ .”   
  
Joe had wondered what their first kiss could be like. If it would be soft, and tender, or slow and deep. But nothing he had imagined actually matched with reality. Nico rushed forward, seemingly having held back as long as he could, before slamming his lips against Joe’s. Whatever he didn’t feel he could say, he seemed eager to show with his body, lifting his hand to cup the back of Joe’s neck and keep him locked within his grasp. He barely had a moment to register that this was actually happening, before Nico tilted his head, running his tongue over his bottom lip and teasing him open.    
  
He could reason that it had likely been so long since he had kissed anyone, that he was simply over sensitized to even the mildest of touches. Still, it felt like Nico awakened a passion that had lain dormant, and his eyes fluttered closed, embracing it completely. He eagerly parted his mouth, groaning when Nico swept his tongue against his, before pressing more into his embrace. The hands that had cupped his face roamed, one now clutched his long strands, and the other wrapped under his arm to keep Nico flush against him.    
  
And when he heard Nico moan into his open mouth, Joe deepened the kiss, greedily hoping to wring more of them from him. He had no idea what sparked this, no idea why Nico’s eyes looked so full of emotion when he first arrived, but all thoughts left his brain when he felt his hands hurriedly tug at his shirt. His hips bucked once from the attention, gliding against Nico’s thigh, and his fingertips went under the hem, tracing Joe’s flexing stomach muscles. 

Before he could even think it through, he pushed Nico back against the nearest flat surface. He let out a little grunt from the move, and Joe pulled back, worried he had accidentally hurt him. But Nico merely wrapped his arm around his neck, hurriedly pulling him back in as if he needed this just as desperately. He could feel his own hands gliding over Nico’s pants, to the firm swell of his cheeks just beneath the fabric. When his fingers squeezed the round curves, Nico raised his right leg to hook it around Joe’s. And though he wasn’t much smaller than himself, Joe did work out, and it didn’t take much effort to hoist him up with a firm grip around his waist while Nico clung to him. His other leg wrapped around him, his body shifting up against the surface, and when Joe pressed his hips further against his groin, Nico moaned against his lips.    
  
When they pulled apart, both needing air, Nico panted against the corner of his mouth. Lazily trailing open mouth kisses along his jawline and towards his neck. Joe instinctively tipped his head back, exposing more skin for his soft lips to reach more of him, while his fingers tightened around his waist. Once Nico reached his ear, licking the shell of it, Joe could hear how desperate he was for this, too. His whimpering moans, and stuttering breaths, making his intent clear -    
  
_ But - _ Joe groaned, reluctantly pulling back in a breathless bid to pause, even with Nico’s thick thighs wrapped around his waist.

He had gotten so wrapped up in how good it felt, that he hadn’t paused long enough to ask what Nico wanted. What he hoped for, and if that matched with what Joe wanted, too. He wanted this more than anything, wanted Nico, but he needed to know if this was something he was willing to invest in for more than one night. Because he definitely wanted more than one.

He hated how sullen Nico looked, how those watery eyes blinked down at him in confusion, and Joe wanted to assure him. But he was still breathing hard, willing his body to cool down a bit, so he lowered Nico down in front of him first. He stared down between them, maybe even wondering if he had done something wrong, and Joe tilted his chin up encouraging him to look up. When he did, Joe confessed with a gentle tone, “I have wanted to kiss you since the first moment I saw you.”   
  
The tension in Nico’s broad shoulders seeped out of him, and he let out a relieved sigh, before cautiously asking, “But - you don’t want to kiss more?”   
  
“I very much do,” Joe grinned, giving him just the faintest brush of his lips against his, “I just want us to talk a bit first?”   
  
Nico seemed to understand, “Of course, I - I shouldn’t have -” Then he chuckled glancing away, “Uh, basically tried devouring you.”   
  
It had taken all of Joe’s self control not to moan at the thought of Nico’s mouth  _ devouring  _ him . . . but he managed to slowly pull back, taking Nico’s hand in his and leading them close to the finished sketch he had covered earlier. He was nowhere near as nervous as he was before, somehow just knowing that Nico was for sure just as attracted to him, as he was with him, drained most of the worry from his body “I had a whole declaration planned out for you tonight - “   
  
Nico gave him a curious look, “You - you  _ did _ ?”   
  
Joe smiled, raising Nico’s hand to his mouth and giving it a light kiss, quite enjoying the way his cheeks seemed to warm at the gesture, “I wanted to show you the finished sketch from last week if that’s alright?”   
  
Nico nodded, his fingers flexing inside Joe’s grip, but otherwise remained silent. Joe reached for the cover he had placed on the pad, and moved it aside while Nico kept his gaze ahead of him. And when the sketch was revealed, Nico let out a quiet gasp, and his eyes widened at the sight, “Joe - this -” He paused, still taking it in and took a step closer to inspect it more, “This is far more beautiful than I am -” He laughed a little at himself, but when he felt Joe’s free hand rise to his cheeks it slowly died down.   
  
When Joe gently glided his face to look up at him, he stared at him with hazy eyes, “Nico my art doesn’t even do you justice.” Nico leaned into his touch, but Joe wasn’t done, “But worse, it doesn’t even give the full picture of you: how endearing your accent is, or the way your seaglass eyes pierce right through to me.”    
  
Nico’s face looked downright flushed, and he bit his bottom lip, trying to contain a light chuckle, “You’re an incurable romantic.”   
  
“I hope I’m not being too intense for you,” he gently caressed his thumb across Nico’s cheek, “I just want to be honest.”   
  
Nico shook his head and reached out for him, his hands settling on Joe’s side, the familiar tingle warming his torso from the touch, “You are not being too intense for me - I - I like how you say things.”

Joe felt his concerns from earlier diminish, relieved to hear it, and he leaned his forehead close to Nico’s - just for a moment, appreciating both his warmth, and the words he spoke, “Thank you for letting me know how you feel.”   
  
Nico shifted within his grasp, just enough to dip his mouth forward and give Joe a gentle kiss, before pulling back with a smile, “I have to admit though, it’s a little unbalanced that you’ve seen me naked twice now, and I haven’t seen you with your shirt off?”   
  
They probably needed to talk more first, but something about the way Nico’s eyes gleamed at the prospect made Joe tease right back, “I’m okay with giving you a little preview if you’d like?”

“Only a preview?” Nico smirked.   
  
“For now,” he offered, before asking, “if that’s okay?”   
  
Nico smiled back at him softly, “Of course it is.”   
  
Joe took a step back, in order to reach behind him and lift his shirt over his head. He knew he wasn’t bad looking, but the way Nico’s mouth parted and his breath hitched, made Joe stifle his own grin, trying not to look arrogant at the effect he caused. He waited though, not saying anything, as Nico’s eyes roamed over his shoulders, down his chest and abs, before slowly making their way back up. Joe tried to remain still, and  _ not _ think of Nico’s hands possibly following the same course his eyes were - 

“Considering Quynh called you  _ ‘old fashioned’ _ , I got to admit the nipple piercings are a surprise?”   
  
Joe laughed as he began to put his shirt back on, “Well, I wasn’t  _ always _ old fashioned, I just -” He paused for a moment, trying not to sound so serious, but the tone belied his intent, “I want to do it slower this time around?”   
  
Nico who had shoved his hands in his back pockets, as if hoping to prevent them from reaching for his bare skin, now removed them. Taking a step closer, he took Joe’s hands in both of his, “I understand, slow is okay, too.” Joe was relieved to hear it, and Nico just as cautiously asked, “Can I - still make out with you?”

“I’d like that,” Joe answered honestly, “can we - keep it above the waist for now?”   
  
Nico gave his right shoulder a shrug, “Considering how beautiful you are above the waist, I think I’ll live.”   
  
Joe smirked at the compliment, already leaning in for another round of kisses, when suddenly Nico seemed to recall something and hurriedly pulled back, “I totally forgot - I came here tonight to tell you how I felt, too, and I - brought something to show you.”   
  
Pleasantly surprised, he chirped, “Wait, like, I finally get to see your pictures?”   
  
“Mmhmm,” Nico led him over to the binder nearby, only releasing his hand in order to pick it up and lean in close, “I developed them myself today, that’s why I couldn’t make it this morning.”   
  
Joe sort of registered the words, thought of assuring Nico it was okay, but he was utterly floored to see close to a dozen pictures of himself placed across two large pages. Most were from the coffee shop, some when he was chatting with Nile, or Quynh. But overall the composition and colors bathed him in soft lights, and flattering angles, giving him a downright ethereal glow. He was either framed by the subway tiles behind his workstation, or the bookshelves off to the side, both backgrounds softened to help him stand out even more, “Nico - “   
  
Nico’s lips curved to the side, trying not to look too proud, but obviously relishing in the way Joe needed a moment to gather his thoughts, “You are a sneaky little thing, telling me you just wanted to take pictures of the shop, and instead you turned me into some kind of model.”   
  
“You already  _ are _ a model, I just tried to capture it properly,” Nico immediately countered, before slowly closing the binder and setting it behind him, “But just like you didn’t think your art gave me justice, I don’t think mine did for you either.”   
  
Joe was humbled by the compliment, but seemed Nico had a few more things to say as well in his declaration, “I was going to come here tonight and tell you how beautiful I think your smile is, that I was desperate to capture it on film.” He turned back towards Joe, chin close to his chest, likely hoping he wasn’t coming on too strongly either, “But no photograph can capture the laugh that warms my heart. Or how adorable your curls bounce when you tilt your head to the side.”   
  
He slowly looked up, and Joe stilled under that intense gaze. Both the need behind them, but the reservation as well, “I’ve been wanting to run my hands through them for weeks.”   
  
Joe’s eyes felt heavy, barely managing a nod before Nico raised his hand to carefully run his fingers through them. His fingertips softly glided along his scalp, and he tilted his head a little to help guide the direction of Nico’s touch. He closed his eyes when they roamed behind his head, and just as desperately needed to touch him as well, “Nico - “   
  
“Joe -” Nico’s voice sounded soft and soothing, encouraging him along, and Joe leaned in until he could feel his soft lips slot against his. This time their kiss was slightly less intense, but no less rushed, no less desperate as Joe’s hands wrapped around Nico’s waist. He managed to not pick up him and pin him against a wall, but he did lean Nico back against the various canvases stacked behind him - not realizing how wet the paint still was from where he was testing out color blends. 

Surely Nico could feel it dampening against the back of his shirt, maybe even his pants, too, but he didn’t seem to mind, only deepening the kiss with his tongue curling into his mouth. Joe’s hands glided between the wet canvas, trailing right along the edge of Nico’s pants but he had asked to keep it above the waist - and he didn’t want to push the boundary he had asked for himself. Yet his hand ached to feel the swell of that cheek in his palm again, and he groaned in mild frustration as he pulled back. Nico’s eyes looked dazzling, shiny and bright, while Joe was certain he’d probably looked downright wild with lust, “You - are  _ very _ tempting.”   
  
Nico responded with a dry laugh, “Says the one who has managed to pin me down  _ twice _ .” 

Joe was about to tease he technically hadn’t pinned him down yet, but figured that’d be too forward - and besides, Nico’s hand raised to his mouth as his eyes traveled up his face, “Oh Joe, I’m sorry - “ Joe noticed Nico’s hand was smeared with wet paint, and at some point, he had managed to get some in his hair, “It’s in your hair,  _ and _ on your cheek.” 

Joe took it in stride, surely not wanting Nico to feel guilty about something he could easily wash out, besides, “I’m - pretty sure it’s on the back of your clothes.” 

Nico’s eyes widened and he lowered his hand, before twisting his upper body back a little to take a look. The angle was too awkward though, and instead Joe had to keep it together as he watched the way Nico’s torso elongated and curved out his ass  _ perfectly _ in front of him, “Is it on my pants?”

He tried not to stare, but since Nico asked . . . he allowed himself a long look, before finally mustering a simple nod. Nico took it in stride, already unbuttoning his shirt, and not really seeming to notice the way Joe’s hands curled into fists at the sight of all that lovely pale skin in front of him, “Can I use your sink?”

Joe managed to mumble a quiet  _ ‘of course’ _ and walked across the studio beside him, before reaching over to turn on the cold water. Nico rubbed the various spots of paint along the fabric within his hands, scrubbing them under the faucet, as the basin filled with splashes of color. The shirt might be salvageable, but if anything, Joe reasoned he could buy him a new one if it wasn’t. It was his fault after all if it turned out to be ruined. In fact he was just about to offer, when Nico began to wring the shirt out, and suggested Joe lean over so he could help him get the paint out of his hair.    
  
He had dealt with crusted paint in his hair plenty before, but the thought of Nico running his fingers through his hair again already was too sweet of an offer to resist. Carefully, he leaned his head over the basin, turning his head to the side, as Nico remained focused on his singular task. He switched the water till it was warmer, and gently glided Joe’s head underneath till the tips of his strands were soaked through. He didn’t care how long Nico took, Joe was more than content to stare at his bare stomach that flexed every now and then as his hands moved about their work. He counted no less than three small birthmarks near his navel, and it made him think of a cluster of stars . . .    
  
But it was the wisp of hairs along the thin skin, peeking out just above his pants that made Joe’s face feel warm, and he desperately needed to refocus, “So, how do you like it here so far?”

Nico stilled for a moment, then chuckled, “Um fine?” He stretched slightly, turning off the water, and reached for one of the clean rags nearby, “Here, let me -” He gave Joe’s hair soft presses with the cloth, hoping to make it less damp, “There, I think there’s no permanent damage.”   
  
“Thank you,” Joe slowly rose up from the sink, and held the rag to his hair, rubbing it along his scalp a little harder as he smiled down at Nico, “But I did really want to know how you’re enjoying things around here.”

“Oh uh,” Nico leaned against the small sink counter, and smiled softly, “I like the classes, and the access to studios. And um, the book club is nice, the people have been very welcoming to me.” He looked down, almost shyly, and Joe found it downright endearing, “And, kissing you is nice, too.”

“Do you,” Joe began to ask, but hesitated for a moment, worried it would be too much, too fast, but equally needing to know, “Do you think you might consider extending your stay through the year?” Nico didn’t raise his head, but Joe still saw the small smile curving his lips. He knew what he was trying to ask surely, though maybe he needed to lay it all out, make it clear, “I just -” Joe slowly reached for his hand beside him, “the idea of only getting to court you for a semester -”   
  
“Court me?” Nico sounded surprised, and he gazed up at him, “You - want to court me?”   
  
“Maybe it’s too much to even suggest after only one week,” Joe’s fingers slid over Nico’s, and he took hope in the fact that he didn’t pull them back, “but, would you consider staying another semester?”   
  
Nico leaned closer to him, and rested his head on Joe’s shoulder, “I’d have to fill out the paperwork pretty soon, but, I would like to stay a little longer.” 

Joe hadn’t even realized how tense his upper body was while he waited for Nico’s reply, but once given, he sort of sagged against him and leaned his head against his hair, “Okay.”   
  
“Okay,” Nico echoed, before pulling back after a moment with a short chuckle, “Now, I just need your help getting back to my apartment.”   
  
Joe realized he had completely forgotten about Nico’s wet shirt, but had a quick idea pop into his head, “Borrow my jacket, you can bring it to me tomorrow when I take you on a date.”   
  
Nico beamed, “Tomorrow already?”   
  
“Mm, I’ll be counting down the hours,” Joe pushed away from the small sink cabinet, and led him across the room to the small table by the door. He picked up his leather jacket and held it open for Nico to put on. He rolled his shoulders to lift it over, then zipped it up before turning around to face him. It was a good size too big, but seeing him in his clothing warmed his heart, “Do you want me to walk you home?”   
  
“No,” he gave him a coy sly, “But only because I’m afraid I’d pull you inside if you were standing at my doorway.”

Joe had to stifle the groan at that idea, but he wouldn’t deny himself a kiss, tipping Nico’s chin up at him with a curved finger to give him a gentle one. Afterwards, when Nico took a moment to slowly flutter his eyes open, Joe glided the pad of his thumb over his soft lips, “Good night, Nico.”   
  
Nico gave the tip of his thumb a soft nip between his teeth, and Joe’s cheeks flushed, “Good night, Joe.”   
  
When he was once again alone in his studio, Joe had to wonder if Nico might respect his boundaries, but also planned on teasing him every step of the way. He raised the thump that had been between his lips, and pressed it against his own. 

* * *

**Notes:** oof, I love this chapter *o*


	8. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching it up - we see how the first month of courtship (versus one day/week) goes for Joe and Nico <3

* * *

_“We were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.” _

* * *

  
_First Week_

Nico had rolled out of bed the next day with a smile that would not fade, even when he caught sight of it in his bathroom mirror. He almost rolled his eyes at himself for being so besotted looking at eight in the morning, but the truth was, he was terribly smitten with Joe already. And now that he had a taste of that man, Nico’s mind filtered through the scenarios of how he might be able to keep him. Which was really a bit ridiculous to already contemplate after just one makeout session - _but what a kisser_ .  
  
Even just trying to concentrate enough to brush his teeth took some real effort that morning, though Joe didn’t help anything when he texted Nico during the middle of it. He hurriedly went through the rest of the process, gurgled some water, and barely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before swiping at the screen to unlock the message:  
  
 _Good morning Nico <3 _ _  
__Is it too early to ask when I get to take you on a date today?_  
  
Nico slumped a little against his sink, because he had gotten so swept in the idea that Joe - _Joe_ \- actually liked him back, _and_ kissed him, _and_ wanted to go on a date with him . . . that he had forgotten one key detail: the cost of it.   
  
He already knew Keane was full of shit about Joe only wanting him for something casual. He could have easily swept Nico off his feet last night, but he had asked to take things slow. But - was Keane potentially right about some things, like Joe having more financial security? Nico had already cycled through the prospect the night before, overcoming his own hesitancy of Joe possibly judging him for not having much himself. Yet what about today . . . would he try to take Nico to some fancy dinner? He couldn’t afford it - but would he already let him pay for it?  
  
 _Wake up, sleepy head :)_  
  
Joe’s second message popped up, and Nico raised his thumbs to begin typing out a message, then paused. He should just be honest. Admit his concerns, and let Joe know how uncomfortable he was at the idea of him paying for things for him. But he wasn’t really to share that part of himself just yet, for more than one reason. Maybe he could suggest something during the day? Something that might be cheaper -

  
_Good morning, Joe <3 _

_I would love to go on a date -_

_can we make it sooner rather than later?_   
  


There, hopefully vague enough . . .  
  
 _Happily! - I was thinking the Art Museum?_

_Students get in free and we can spend hours there :)_   
  


Nico almost cried in relief when he read his message. Both because of the free option, but the thought of holding Joe’s hand and viewing art for hours? What could be better? 

  
_I love it - can we meet soon?_ _  
_

  
He grinned when Joe immediately responded:  
  
 _It opens in thirty minutes, I’ll meet you at the front :D_ _  
__  
_

Nico had to bite his bottom lip to contain his smile:  
  
 _See you in thirty ~_

  
  
He shoved the phone in his pocket and headed to his dresser to pick out an outfit, unable to keep the warm feelings at bay. He knew he shouldn’t be falling this hard, this fast, but seeing Joe waiting for him by the large front doors, _for a date with him_ , made Nico hopeful for a future he hadn’t considered when he had boarded the plane to America. And when Joe pulled him close and gave him just the slightest brush of his lips against his, he melted against his body, wanting nothing more than to stare up in those chestnut colored eyes all day.   
  
Joe’s hands had settled on Nico’s waist, a gentle touch, and he looked down at him with such radiant warmth that it felt like it spread over his heart, “Hi. Sorry, I should have greeted you first before kissing you.”  
  
Nico shook his head, already leaning in close, “Mm, never apologize for kissing me first.”   
  
Joe barely had a chance to offer a soft smile at his words before Nico closed the gap between them and gave him a deeper kiss. It wasn’t passionate, or clingy, but no less intimate and when they parted, Joe rested his forehead against Nico’s and his hands roamed from his waist, up along his back, “I probably shouldn’t say this already, but I can’t imagine a better Saturday than walking through this building, getting to your hold your hand.”  
  
Nico sighed, moving his face to rest against Joe’s shoulder with a smile. He couldn’t even look at him just yet, his cheeks felt warm, and his chest tight, “I’m glad you told me that. I - I’m glad we’re here together.”  
  
Joe’s arms wrapped tighter around him, his cheek resting on the top of his head, “Me, too.”  
  
Nico closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the comforting feeling of Joe’s steady breathing against his chest, before they headed inside.

_Second Week_

A part of Nico had been slightly nervous to walk into the Book Club meeting holding Joe’s hand, but nobody really seemed to bat an eye about it. Though a few offered sweet smiles, and warm greetings to the “new couple”. The only people who really would have noticed enough to comment about it - Nile and Booker - had learned about their relationship (or as Joe called it, “courtship”), the week before when Nico walked in for his usual coffee before class. And neither of them were all that surprised. Nile grinned like the cheshire cat, like she had somehow planned the perfect opportunity for them to meet (and in a way, it was), while Booker only rolled his eyes at Joe and said he was surprised it took him a whole week to make a move with how infatuated he seemed to be.   
  
Of course Nico wanted to hear all about Joe being so smitten that he was _‘messing up coffee orders’_ , but Joe wrapped an arm around Nico’s shoulder, and distracted him with a kiss right then and there, and any questions he had for Booker left his mind all together.  
  
Now he and Joe were sharing a small plate of finger sandwiches as an impromptu dinner that Joe was balancing on a hand between them. Nico had just finished one, and was about to reach for another, when he saw that Joe was making a face, like he just realized something. Curious, Nico leaned in a little to ask quietly what was on his mind.  
  
Joe grumbled around a sigh, “I just realized this counts as our first dinner, and it could not be less romantic.”  
  
Nico wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic, but could barely stifle a chuckle before Joe looked back over at him. He raised a hand to cover his smile, trying to avoid hurting his feelings since he seemed to be serious, “Really?”  
  
Joe tried sounding annoyed, but he still gave Nico a lopsided grin, “Don’t laugh - I want to romance you properly, and finger sandwiches on a paper plate do not cut it.”  
  
He didn’t want to feel defensive about it, but a little concerned if Joe might have very specific ideas about what qualified as a _‘proper dinner date’_ . He glanced down towards the cup of juice in his hand, and lowered his other hand to his knee, “I do not mind paper plates.” Joe didn’t immediately respond, and Nico wondered if he was waiting for him to elaborate, “I - just don’t think a date has to be so formal in order to be romantic.”  
  
Nico was still looking down, but watched Joe’s hand slide over to his, gently reaching for his fingers to slot with his, “You deserve to be romanced, Nico.” When Joe raised his hand, Nico’s eyes followed, and he watched through an almost hazy vision as he gently gave his knuckles a soft kiss, “And I look forward to us enjoying fantastic dinner this weekend?”  
  
He wanted to tell him _‘no’_ , to say that he didn’t have to do that, that he would only accept if he could pay for himself, too - but Nico honestly didn’t know if he could afford one so soon. And the thought of telling Joe about _any_ of that, made him lightheaded. When he didn’t immediately respond, Joe tilted his head slightly, “Or, do you really not want to go somewhere to eat? We could go to the museum again if you’d prefer?”  
  
Nico shook his head, not wanting to hurt his feelings since he seemed to really want to, “No, a restaurant is fine. I just - can’t pay for my share.” Then he hurriedly added, “This week, I mean.” Which wasn't a _complete_ lie. He did have a few odd jobs lined up that he was certain he could afford it later. 

But when he looked down slightly embarrassed, Joe gently tilted his head back up to him with a warm hand on his cheek, “I offered Nico, and would love to pay for you. You can with the next one if you want, or we can split it?”

Nico raised his hand to curve his fingers around Joe’s wrist, and nodded, silently agreeing to the arrangement even with the reservations weighing over him. Joe gave him a gentle kiss, and let him know that he was up next to read one of the poems he had selected, “One I hope you’ll like.”  
  
Nico smiled, wanting to, but he was awfully distracted by one thought that made his stomach churn. And when Joe stepped away from him to head to the stage, he felt a sadness wash over him: _‘What if I can’t pay for the next one - what if I can’t provide the same for you?’_

_Third Week_

The previous Sunday, Joe had offered to pick Nico up at his apartment, before he planned on taking him to the restaurant. But he already felt embarrassed enough that he was going to pay for him - the thought of Joe getting even a glimpse of his almost barren apartment felt overwhelming and he asked if they could simply meet at the courtyard nearby. When he asked why, Nico felt horrible for lying, but blamed it on not wanting to potentially run into Keane together, and Joe chuckled in agreement.   
  
Nico actually hadn’t seen Keane since that day, seemingly having gotten the hint with Nico’s outburst, though Joe said the man tended to shoot him glares every now and then in his class. But so long he wasn’t cornering him in the hallways Nico didn’t care. 

But all thoughts of Keane had left his mind as soon as he saw Joe standing under a large maple tree, bathed in a street light not far off. He had traded his usual leather jacket, for a plain button down, that was rolled up on his forearms. Nico didn’t mean to stare, but the way the muscles under his tanned skinned flexed slightly when he reached for his hand gave him all sorts of thoughts. He tried to distract himself by asking where they were going, but Joe played coy as they walked a few blocks away. Simply saying _‘he’d see’_ in a moment, while Nico wanted to roll his eyes at his sly grin.   
  
Of course when they rounded the corner and Joe pointed to a small Italian restaurant, Nico smiled so big his cheeks hurt. He had heard about how badly some Americans made Italian food, but Joe promised this one was supposed to be really _‘authentic’_ \- a family business that was third generation. 

The place was small, the wood tables worn, the menus a cheap plastic laminate; and it was more than perfect, because Nico had feared some sort of four star restaurant. Even better, once the staff had heard his accent, the head chef came out just to practice his broken Italian on him for a good fifteen minutes - before declaring that all _‘Italians eat free’._ Joe teased he should get to eat free, too, _‘for_ bringing _an Italian’_ , but Nico merely thanked his lucky stars for some of the guilt washing away. And he had thoroughly enjoyed speaking in his native language even for just a little while.  
  
 _But today_ , Joe was picking him up from the photography studio.   
  
Nico had texted he needed another half hour in the darkroom developing some photos, but he was almost done, and Joe would be arriving any minute. Most of the studios were first come, first served several times a week, but students were able to “rent” for a few blocks at a time as well, and Nico was currently all alone when he heard the revolving door open behind him.  
  
“Oh,” Joe paused, taking in the dimly lit room bathed in red lighting, “I’ve never been in one of these rooms before.”  
  
Nico leaned back when Joe stepped over to him, giving him a casual peck before feeling his arms wrap around his waist. He easily leaned against him, his head resting on Joe’s firm shoulder, “It’s probably not as romantic as an art studio.”  
  
He could feel Joe’s chest gently shaking against his back, “This is _plenty_ romantic.” He moved his chin to rest on Nico’s broad shoulder, looking down at the basin on the counter, “What did you take pictures of?”  
  
“You’ll see in just a moment,” Nico smiled.  
  
The last picture was still developing, the image seeping onto the material, and rising to the surface. But most were already drying on the station nearby.

He had taken a few images centered around the Song of Achilles book as an overall theme. A series of flat lay mockups he hoped to upload and sell as stock photos, and several more for aesthetic moodboards, with symbolic imagery spread around the book. He had used various light sources from around his apartment, and had cast some interesting patterns across the arrangements of items. Nico felt quite inspired with the final results, and planned to use several for his junior review at the end of the semester. 

But there was one image still left, and Nico could feel Joe’s arms tightening around him when he realized what it was. Nico had set up the tripod at the foot of his bed, and used the clicker to take a few of him reading it casually. It was a fairly plain self portrait, but no less intimate with him being naked, though the comforter was draped over his lap, and obscuring his lower half.  
  
“You’re going to show me a picture of you topless, in your bed?”  
  
“You’ve seen me naked twice,” he easily teased back. But when Nico glanced between Joe’s wide eyes and the picture, he merely shook his head, still smiling, “It’s _art,_ Joe. It’s not meant as a sexual piece - “  
  
Joe scoffed, his voice sounding thick, “Everything you’re in is sexual, Nico.”  
  
He rolled his eyes, “I don’t think -”

But before he could even finish, Nico felt Joe’s head dip into the groove of his shoulder. His lips easily finding the exposed part of his neck just above the collar of his shirt. Nico tipped his head back, silently encouraging him to explore the sensitive skin more, and Joe’s right hand roamed above his waist, towards his chest. His hand pressed right over his heart, and Nico wanted nothing more than his fingers to glide in between the open spaces of his button down.  
  
When Joe pulled back, Nico stared up at him through half lidded eyes, taking in his needy expression with mutual desire: _‘how is he this beautiful no matter what light he is bathed in?’_ His dark eyes scanned over Nico’s face, and he raised his other hand to cup his cheek, but he didn’t say anything. Merely leaned into him, and pressed his lips against his. Nico instantly moved his hands along his chest, feeling his hard muscles flex under his fingertips as he slid them over Joe’s shoulders. He slotted his hands together, fingers curling around one another behind Joe’s head, and deepened the kiss.  
  
They’d been kissing for the better part of three weeks now, and if Nico was honest - he’d been starting to get blue down there. But he really did want to respect Joe’s wishes, and it wasn’t like he didn’t give him tender touches, and intimate caresses in plenty of other ways. Yet everything had been above the clothes, above the waist . . . until then.  
  
Joe’s lower body pressed against Nico’s, the warmth radiating from the groin area heating his own, and Nico pulled back surprised. But Joe only moved his lips from his mouth, towards his jaw, tracing open mouth kisses along his skin before trailing down the column of his neck, “J-Joe.” 

He could feel Joe’s thigh sliding between his legs, widening his stance, and Nico moaned. When Joe responded by licking a spot of his flesh, it made his own pelvis jerk and Joe’s fingers tightened on him as he groaned against his skin.  
  
The sensations of his tongue, just underneath his ear, now _sucking_ on the flesh made him whimper for more. And when he felt Joe’s fingers gliding down his stomach, aiming for the edge of his pants, he moaned so loud that Joe hurriedly covered his mouth to swallow the tail end of it. He knew they could not have their first time together in a shared dark room, but he couldn’t stop, desperate to feel more of Joe under his traveling fingertips -  
  
But then Nico’s alarm went off, reminding him that he needed to clean, and that another student would be arriving momentarily to use the studio. They both snapped out of it, parting with a laugh at having gotten carried away. Joe reluctantly pulled back, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, “You have to keep your semi nude pics away from me from now on, they’re too tempting.”  
  
Nico was still breathing hard, having to swallow before he could even respond. But if Joe was really going to tease him this much, then he’d dish it out just as bad. Giving him a coy smirk, he leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose, “So, this is not the time to share that I am booked for a nude session in your class next week?”  
  
Joe dipped his head between them, and groaned.

  
  


_Fourth Week_

Nico quietly thanked Joe for the cup of juice he brought over with his own, before taking a seat beside him. The Book Club was meeting again, this time to discuss the Song of Achilles now that everyone had a chance to read it. Nile was leading the discussion, and asked a few questions of the general consensus. Most had enjoyed it, some didn’t like the first person point of view, while others loved it. But it was it her next inquiry that was met with more than one confused look, “Do you think tSoA is a romance, or a tragedy?”  
  
Nico hadn’t realized the various looks members were giving each other, as they tried to figure out which category they would place the book in. Simply lowered the cup between his hands, and shrugged over at Joe, “Both?”  
  
They were all sitting in a large circle, and because no one had said anything yet, all heard his casual commentary. Once he realized he glanced down, unsure if he should have raised his hand first or something. Hopefully he hadn’t appeared rude. Nile merely smiled, “In what way? Because most people call it a Greek tragedy.”   
  
It wasn’t spoken in an accusatory way, or even countering his claim, merely asking him to elaborate. When he glanced from Joe’s encouraging gaze, over to Nile’s warm grin, Nico felt comfortable to explain, “I - I don’t think I’d call it a tragedy.” He thumbed the rim of the cup, “Only because they are reunited in the end.”  
  
“But all the pain they had to go through, isn’t that a tragedy?” one member questioned, and several nodded in agreement.  
  
Yet a few seemed to lean towards Nico assessment, and it helped him to continue, “They went through it together, and in the end were able to be together, so I guess - I don’t see it as a tragedy.”  
  
“Thanks, Nico,” Nile’s cheerful voice helped ease his nerves, and she asked the others in the circle what they thought. Several began talking, but Nico silently looked up at Joe beside him, and was greeted with a dazzling grin. The kind that made a warmth bundle inside of his lower belly.  
  
Even though the discussion had gone on for another hour, and some time allotted to vote on next month’s book, it was the walk back towards Nico’s student housing building that he ended up cherishing the most that night. They were walking hand in hand, the air still warm, even though the sun had already set. There was still a soft glow along the horizon, but as beautiful as it was, Nico couldn’t help but be more captivated by the feel of Joe’s hand in his.  
  
“Would it sound cheesy if I said I like to imagine us like Achilles and Patroclus?”  
  
“Not at all,” Nico smiled, before reminding him, “I was the one who texted you lines from the books saying they made me think of you.”  
  
“No, I mean, I -” Joe stopped walking, and Nico immediately did as well, unsure why he looked so serious all of a sudden. Joe’s fingers squeezed his, and he looked down between them, “I’d like to think we’d have a long time to be together, too. That -” His dark eyes slowly raised to his, “I _want_ us to be together for a long time.”  
  
Nico took a step closer, raising his free hand to his cheek, “I would like that, too.”  
  
Joe leaned into the touch, tilting his head slightly and let out a relieved breath before tipping his forehead down to Nico’s. He lifted the hand he was holding between them, raising it to his lips, so Joe could kiss his knuckles, “I know I’ve been courting you, and I sort of suspect you already are, but can I call you my ‘boyfriend’?”  
  
Nico’s eyes had been closed, but now they fluttered open, and he stared at the pulse point thumping in Joe’s neck, “ _Si_.”

He leaned back, looking up into Joe’s hooded eyes, and they kissed under the stars. 

Nico couldn’t remember the last time he had been this happy.

* * *

**Notes:** next up, October, from Joe's point of view <3


	9. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe does some reflection on just how deep his feelings go with Nico :)

* * *

_ “I found myself grinning until my cheeks hurt, my scalp prickling till I thought it might lift off my head. My tongue ran away from me, giddy with freedom.” _

* * *

  
  


_ First Week _

Joe’s dating history was spotty at best. He had some fun times, certainly didn’t regret his experiences, but he also knew what he wanted. And though he could admit that he almost faltered a few times in the previous two years, he was essentially glad that he had chosen not to pursue much of anything with anybody . . . leaving his options wide open for the one man who was quickly running away with his whole heart.   
  
Considering how cautious, and careful, he wanted to be within this whole courting process - things were moving fast, at least emotionally. Nico had been very kind, and understanding about the whole thing. Yet when it came to his feelings, Joe knew he was downright infatuated. Most people talked about how a new relationship often derailed someone’s life with distractions, letting things slide, or friendships being pushed aside. But for Joe, Nico’s presence in his life only enhanced those things.   
  
His creativity soared. The sketches of him filled page after page, he finished a large canvas painting a week ago, and the poem he had been working on for his mid year review in creative writing (that he had been stuck on for weeks), now came to him in bits and pieces. Line after line of imagery beginning to stitch together into something more coherent and expressing his feelings. Deep feelings. Feelings he was trying to keep restrained so he didn’t scare Nico off.   
  
And as for friendship, Nico fit in so well with his. Especially Quynh and Booker who helped talked to Nico about the best parts of America, campus life, and resources for foreign students. Some of his reservedness began to fade away, and he listened intently, Joe finding him taking notes during one such conversation downright endearing. It gave him hope that he really was hoping to stay around longer, though Nico hadn’t technically shown him the paperwork for it. The deadline wasn’t till next month anyways, so he was likely still filling them out. Or so Joe hoped, trying not to let doubt overshadow his happiness.   
  
That Wednesday, they were sitting across from Quynh and Andy who were casually sipping their coffees, while Joe held onto Nico’s hand in his lap. Every now and then it flexed against his skin, his thumb brushing little circles on the back of his hand, and he could barely keep his smile at bay. It felt so natural to sit there with him, so relaxed and yet intimate, too. 

They were discussing their mid year reviews coming up, since Quynh and Andy were their respective TA’s in the fields, as a general sort of check in. Quynh dipped her straw into the whipped cream that was barely froth at that point, “So, will your projects just basically be of each other?”    
  
Nico looked down, a warmth spreading over his cheeks, but Joe gave a coy smile, “Definitely.”

He could feel Nico’s hand squeeze his, before watching the flush on his cheeks spread towards his ears.

_ Second Week _

“You seem nervous?” Joe made a casual observation after draping his jacket over the small corner chair by the table of Nico’s apartment. When he had asked Nico out for another dinner, his boyfriend offered to make him something homemade instead, and Joe thought it was a downright romantic idea. But with the way Nico was fumbling with his hands, clutching an apron between them, he wondered if everything was okay.

“I - I just,” he shifted his eyes past Joe’s shoulder and peered over the small living room, “I know my apartment is pretty bare.”   
  
Joe followed his line of sight, turning his upper body a little to better take in the space. It was a bit sparse, but it wasn’t like there was anything wrong with that. Did he maybe think it was too small? It wasn’t like Joe was expecting anything ornate for student housing. But if Nico needed some assurances, he was happy to oblige, “I guess to some people it could be, but I’m not here for your apartment.” He took a step closer, dipping his head close to Nico’s, and sliding his hand around his waist, “I’m here to have dinner with you.”   
  
Nico sighed, “You have a way with words, Joe.”   
  
Joe gave him a light kiss, and rested his forehead close, “You inspire me.”   
  
Nico bit his bottom lip, shaking his head, as if trying to prevent himself from allowing the moment to become more intimate. Instead he leaned back, and gazed up at Joe, “Mm, come on my poet, and let me show off  _ my _ talent.”    
  
Joe practically rolled his eyes, not really liking the idea that Nico might not think better of himself, “You  _ are _ already talented Nico. Your photography alone is - “ But Nico merely pulled on his hand, tugging him closer to the kitchen where there was a small table, two chairs, and a feast of Italian food. The lights were off, save for the dim one over the oven a few feet away, and several candles situated in the middle of the table provided a soft, ambient glow, “When you invited me to dinner, I was almost expecting take out.”   
  
“Oh,” Nico shifted his eyes down at the food on the plates, “I’m sorry - I - “    
  
Joe suddenly realized how his comment might have sounded and he hurriedly explained, “Wait - oh no Nico, I only meant I’m  _ surprised _ , but in a good way. I had no idea you  _ could _ cook.”   
  
Nico perked up a little at his words, but his voice was demure, “I - I actually like it, and I hope you enjoy it.”

Joe reached for his hand between them, “This is perfect, Nico, thank you.”   
  
“I just wanted to do something special for you,” he leaned closer, wrapping his hand around Joe’s, “the last two months have been - “ He paused for a moment, like he was looking for the right word, then finally shrugged before raising his eyes to his, “amazing?”   
  
Joe’s eyes felt hazy, and he could barely manage to nod in agreement before Nico pulled back and explained the food still needed to cool, “So, let me give the tour, it will take five minutes.” He was practically chuckling, but really Joe was happy to let him lead him anywhere. Because the truth was, the last seven weeks with Nico had been so wonderful. And to hear Nico call it  _ ‘amazing’ _ , left him feeling hopeful that he was going to stay around for a long time.    
  
But Nico was right when he said the tour would only take a few minutes. There was a short hallway off the living room, and a grand total of three doors. One was a closet that was a foot deep, the second, a bathroom, and the third, his bedroom. Nico had let go of his hand, digging his own into his back pockets and Joe looked away, trying hard not to think of the way his broad chest flexed under his silk shirt. He stepped over to the row of books sitting on top of a high dresser, trying to distract himself from the bed in the corner, and grabbed one without really thinking about it.   
  
He could hear Nico behind him, explaining he kept a few art books for inspiration, but his own body must have blocked the one he had picked. Because when he opened it, he skimmed a few pages, and came across a picture of none other than himself. Joe slowly turned around, lifting the small picture from the pages, and pursed his lips, “Now when did you take this?”   
  
Nico’s eyes widened, as if embarrassed, “I - um - “ He took a step closer, “I hope you don’t think I’m a stalker. But that first day when students arrived.”   
  
“What?” Joe stared down at it, trying to think back to that day. Walking around the courtyard, chatting with Booker. He did remember laughing about something, though he couldn’t remember what it was about anymore. And somehow Nico had captured it from a far? Joe was certain that if Nico had stepped close to take a picture of him, he would have noticed . . .   
  
“I just - I thought you had the prettiest smile, and I wanted to capture it,” he sounded timid in his explanation, “and I normally don’t take people’s pictures unless I have their permission. But I - never thought you would ever talk to me and I - “   
  
“Nico,” Joe didn’t mean to interrupt, but he certainly didn’t want him to feel bad about  _ this. _ And seeing as how he knew this now, he was more than happy to make his own confession, “I noticed you around campus for weeks beforehand - even asked Nile about you.”   
  
His bright eyes shot up to his, “Really?”

“Yeah, and she told me how you were only around for a little while, and I knew before I ever talked to you that I would never be able to settle for just a short time with you.”   
  
“Joe,” Nico untucked his hands from his pockets, raising them to Joe’s chest. But neither said anything else. Simply leaned into each other, giving tender kisses and holding each other for a moment. They both relished the fact that they had been in each other’s orbit for weeks before they had found the courage to speak to one another.    
  
He didn’t say it out loud, but Joe realized he was falling in love with the man in his arms.   
  


_ Third Week  _

Several of them were helping set up a student gallery exhibit in the main hall area of the office buildings. There was going to be a charity event, and some pieces had been preselected, but still needed to be hung up for the evening. Joe, Nile and Andy were in one area, while Nico, Booker and Quynh were across the way. Nile had joked that it was unfair that they had been segregated from their  _ ‘foreign born armors’ _ , but at least they’d be motivated to hurry on up so they could  _ ‘be reunited’ _ .   
  
Andy and Joe were currently holding up a heavy canvas for Nile to finish attaching to the wall, when the lean brunette peered over at him, “Things seem to be going well between you two.”    
  
“Yeah, very,” Joe tried to remain still while Nile was balanced on the short step ladder, between them, “Nico’s - well, great.”   
  
“I find him quite endearing,” Nile giggled, “very sweet.” Joe looked up just in time to catch her glancing over at Booker, “And I like that he has Booker, and Quynh, to talk to about staying longer.”   
  
That made him curious, though he hoped his voice didn’t make it obvious, “Has he - mentioned if Nico said anything about the forms?”   
  
“The transfer extension forms?” Nile looked over towards Andy, “Last I heard Quynh was helping fill them out?”

Andy shrugged, not nearly as invested in the conversation as they were. Her eyes kept shifting over to Quynh, “She hasn’t mentioned anything.” When she looked back, it was directly at Joe, “But, why not ask Nico about it?”   
  
Joe was hesitant to explain, but maybe it would be good to get some reassurance from his friends, “I don’t want to pressure him to stay if maybe he’s not so sure after all.”   
  
Andy guffawed, like that was a downright ridiculous statement, “Nico stares at you like you’re the sun, Joe. Pretty sure he’s filled out those forms in triplicates by now.”   
  
Joe chuckled because well, she wasn’t  _ wrong _ . Both Nile and Andy teased him a little longer for even considering Nico wasn’t making the plans to stay but in the end, even with their assurances, Joe decided not to ask after all. A little afraid of the potential answer.

_ Fourth Week  _

It was only natural that after the impressive dinner at Nico’s apartment, Joe would want to return the favor, and invited him over to his that evening. Unfortunately he did decide on take out, because he couldn’t cook and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself trying his hand at it tonight, not when he knew that  _ ‘Chef Nico’ _ would be able to see right through his amateur attempts. 

Joe’s apartment was actually a condo his parents had invested in off campus. He’d use it while he was at college, and then he could decide to buy it from them once he secured his first job. They wanted him to be able to focus on his education first, and he knew how lucky he was to have not only such supportive parents, but ones with the means to give him that option.   
  
But after seeing Nico’s apartment, and now his wide eyes glancing around Joe’s entryway, he began to piece together that maybe there was some slight uncomfortability behind his gaze. He had worried that maybe his financial security might come across as boastful, and he hoped to explain this was just a temporary housing situation. That it was his parents who had money, not him per se. 

Reaching for his hand, he invited him to take a seat on the large sofa, though he found Nico’s silence slightly intimidating. He wished he knew what he was thinking. Once settled down beside him, Joe clutched his hand a little tighter, encouraging him to look at him. When he did, his own softened, “What’s wrong?”   
  
Joe hated how tense Nico’s shoulders looked, “I - I just this is way fancier than my apartment.”   
  
“It’s really my parents apartment, they pay for it,” he quickly pointed out, before elaborating, “I know I’m lucky to have that, but I don’t mean to imply that I have all this kind of money.” Nico nodded like he understood, and Joe explained about having some in a trust for when he graduated. But he still hoped to be able to establish his career on his own merit, without the help of his family’s money.    
  
It meant the world to him when Nico cupped his cheek and said that there was  _ ‘nothing wrong’ _ with his family helping him get a foot in the door, “It’s your talent that will  _ keep _ you in the field. Who cares how you stepped into it?”    
  
He was downright relieved that he didn’t judge him for it, but he had pieced together from discussions of Nico’s family that it was likely not the same for him. When he asked him about it, about how Nico had hoped to make a career for himself and send money back to his family, Joe waited to see if he would be comfortable enough to share.    
  
Nico sunk further against the backing of the sofa, “I don’t come from the same background as you.” Joe didn’t say anything, didn’t want to interrupt when Nico was sharing something that made him look slightly hesitant, “We never really had a lot of money, but my mother jokes that we did have a lot of love in our house.”   
  
That made Joe smile, and he leaned his elbow along the edge of the sofa, pressing his hand against his cheek, “That’s more important anyways.”   
  
Nico looked down with a smile, quietly agreeing, “I just - I can only do a few odd jobs here and there, while I’m at school, and I don’t really have the money to afford eating out every week.”   
  
_ Oh. _ Joe finally put it together. Those weeks of Nico making polite counters every time Joe suggested a new restaurant. How he preferred cooking at home, though he did hope that happened because Nico  _ wanted _ to cook. When he slowly gazed over at Joe, he cautiously asked, “So, you don’t like - think less of me for not having much money?”   
  
Joe was pained to hear him even contemplate such a thing, and lowered his hand from his cheek, to gently roam over his shoulder, “Nico, if I have said or done something to make you think that I would, please know it was inadvertent. I could care less how much money you make.”   
  
Nico let out a relieved sigh, giving him a bright smile before leaning into Joe’s body. They didn’t stop kissing until the doorbell rang to let them know dinner had arrived. And when they pulled apart breathless, Joe noticed he had managed to unbutton the top two buttons of Nico’s shirt, and they both chuckled at their now messy hair. 

  
***

  
After dinner, Nico went to use the restroom, feeling comfortable enough to tease Joe about the heated tile floors and how he had never thought he’d be in place to get to walk on that. Joe shook his head, and told him he hoped he’d be over plenty more times, _ ‘though for more than just my heated tiles?’ _ When Nico shook his head in reply, a coy smirk tugging on his lips, he caught Joe’s guitar balanced up in a corner nearby, “You play?”   
  
Joe walked closer, picking it up by the neck, “No, I keep meaning to learn actually.”   
  
“May I?” Nico stretched out his hands, and Joe was pleasantly surprised as he handed it over to him.    
  
Nico sat down right on the floor cross legged, and balanced the guitar within his lap. He strummed a few notes along the strings, before casually tuning the pegs, while Joe slowly lowered himself down in front of him. He had no idea Nico could play, and was downright transfixed at the way his hand curved over the position markers. Broad fingers gliding easily over the rough strings, while the other hand strummed over the rosette, creating a melody he was unfamiliar with. Joe wondered if it was something from Italy, but before he could ask, Nico began to hum - before softly singing a few foreign words.    
  
Joe had no idea what he was saying, but it didn’t really matter, Nico’s accented voice echoed around him and he watched in awe as he both played, and sang, in front of him. And it felt like an almost overwhelming privilege to get to hear that beautiful voice singing for him right now. How many more nights would he get to hear him like this, in this apartment? He wanted that future with him so desperately, and it had only been two months. How deeply he loved him already . . .    
  
When Nico finished, and seemed to have realized Joe’s stare, he carefully sat the guitar down beside him almost shy. But Joe merely moved onto his hands, crawling over to him till his face was close to his. He tipped his head until Nico met his eyes, and grinned at him, “Photography, cooking, playing the guitar,  _ and _ singing? For someone who tries to imply he’s not so ‘talented’ you keep surprising me with things at every turn.”    
  
Nico’s cheeks looked like they warmed at the compliment, “ _ Grazie _ .”

* * *

**Notes:** how cute are these two <3333  
Next up, Friendsgiving and some deep feelings are confesssed!!


	10. Friendsgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a friendsgiving dinner . . . and some deep feelings are declared <3

* * *

_“Most beloved.”_

* * *

  
_One month later . . ._

  
Nico had heard about Thanksgiving before, but was surprised to hear about something called ‘Friendsgiving’. Most students had gone home for the long weekend, but Booker had invited Nico to his own gathering on Friday, where the rest of their little friend group was planning on enjoying some food he had catered. It was a relaxed atmosphere at the bookstore, the curtains draped over the front store windows, and the same strung lights reserved for the Book Club shining down on them.   
  
They had just gathered around the table, and Nico was more than grateful to have been included in this. Grateful for the friends he was making, and grateful for sitting next to Joe as he asked him which foods he’d like on his plate. But it was Andy’s casual observation from across the table that ended up cementing his gratitude, “I’m surprised you joined us this year, you’ve always gone home the last two years.”   
  
Joe stilled in the middle of plating his own dish, as if caught red handed, “I - wanted to stay this year so I could enjoy it with Nico, and so he wouldn’t be alone on campus over the holidays.”   
  
Andy rolled her eyes, Quynh went _‘aw’_ , and Joe winked back at him, before finishing dishing his plate.

But Nico hadn’t realized Joe had had the option to go home for the weekend, and he had chosen instead to spend it with him. It made Joe’s invitation for him to spend the weekend at his apartment even more serious in his mind. Nico had considered it an almost casual invitation, especially with Joe saying he wasn’t ready yet, but knowing he had altered usual plans in order to be with him made him reach for his hand under the table.   
  
He wanted to feel his warm fingers slotting with his, help ground him in the moment and not float away as he considered the possibility that maybe this weekend was more important to Joe then he had realized earlier. And maybe somehow something more _was_ going to happen between them.   
  
Nico barely managed to finish his plate, not wanting to appear rude, but he couldn’t really keep up with the various conversations and was almost itching to get back to Joe’s apartment. But when Joe opened the door, he saw that his sofa was pulled out and arranged to be slept on. And he stared at it for a moment, before peering up at Joe, “I - I’m confused.”   
  
Joe had just finished taking off his jacket, and hung up his keys, “What? Why?”   
  
“I wasn’t expecting uh, all that to happen, but we aren’t sharing the bed?”   
  
Joe walked over to him, gesturing with a shrug, “I - thought you’d be more comfortable if I stayed on the couch?”   
  
Nico blinked, surprised, “You - you want me to sleep in that huge bed, by myself, and kick you out of your own?”   
  
“Um, yes?” Joe gave him a sheepish grin.   
  
“Joe, _no_ ,” Nico couldn’t imagine that arrangement, “at the very least, if you’re going to insist on separate sleeping areas, then I’m taking the sofa.”   
  
“Nico,” Joe tried to counter with a soft voice, “I don’t want you to sleep on the sofa.”   
  
“I don’t want _you_ to sleep on the sofa either?” Nico gave him a defiant stare, not willing to back off on the matter. No way was he going to be able to sleep on that bed, smell Joe on the sheets, but not get to feel his warm body beside him. He’d rather be sexually frustrated on the couch, at least that way he didn’t feel guilty for taking the man’s bed away from him on top of it.   
  
Joe tried to brush it off, but his smile faltered a little by the time he had finished the sentence, “How am I going to sleep beside you all weekend, and hold myself back?”   
  
Nico didn’t want to push it, but he didn’t think it would hurt to let Joe know he didn’t have to hold back on his account. That whatever Joe was ready for, he’d be happy to accept. He closed the gap between them, but kept his hands beside him, “Maybe don’t?” 

Joe lifted his face to his, and only a moment passed before he hurriedly pulled Nico close and pressed their lips together. Nico tilted his head, eagerly meeting his efforts with equal enthusiasm. And when Joe’s tongue parted his lips, Nico swept his own inside his mouth, a moan escaping between them. But he was so lost within the kiss that he didn’t even know who did it. Joe was a fantastic kisser, leaving Nico downright lightheaded sometimes, but when he felt his lean fingers roam down his waist, it sent a chill of anticipation down his back. A new wave of alertness made him buck his hips forward, urging him to keep going.   
  
He groaned in approval when Joe’s hand moved over the swell of his cheek, and allowed his own hands to travel lower down his waist, reaching for the hem of his shirt. When Joe pulled back, Nico almost worried he was about to say they should stop, but his own eyes looked dark and filled with the same kind of need he was certain his carried as well. Joe didn’t say anything, simply reached over his head, pulling off his shirt, and revealing that same chiselled torso Nico had only gotten to see _once_ before.   
  
Nico gulped quietly, his mouth feeling dry and wanting nothing more than to run his tongue over those nipple piercings glinting back at him as if they were taunting him. When he raised his eyes back to Joe, he was smirking, as if he knew _exactly_ what the sight of his body was doing to him, and he took a chance by moving closer. He was downright thrilled when Joe moved his hands to cradle his face, and pulled him close against his body. 

There was a new determination in his efforts as Joe’s hands shifted down to Nico’s button down and began to fumble with them. He hurriedly reached his own hands up, ready to rip the shirt apart if he needed to just to feel Joe’s fingertips on his bare skin. They moved like that, in desperate unison, shedding a layer of clothing one at a time, as they made their way down the hallway before Joe clumsily opened the door to his bedroom by reaching behind him.   
  
They practically tumbled into the dimly lit room, just the soft glow of the table lamp providing enough sight for Nico to know where he needed to step to get them to the large bed behind Joe. His little grunts, and groans, encouraged him on, and when he felt Joe’s hips buck against his own, Nico pulled back panting as his fingers tightened into the curls of his hair.

They looked at each other just for a moment, before Nico gently pushed Joe down onto the edge of the bed. To see his face so close to his pelvis was a sight to behold, and for one moment he wondered if Joe would ever let him photograph him like this. His sparking eyes gazing up at him, his lips parted ever so slightly, as his lean fingers curled around Nico’s hips.   
  
He shifted, moving down slowly to sit in Joe’s lap, watching for signs of any discomfort or hesitation, but finding none, he settled against his thighs and wrapped his arms around Joe’s neck. There was so much to say wasn’t there? So much to discuss and talk about and admit out loud. But he also desperately needed to feel Joe’s fingers glide under his now open shirt, to travel lower to his pants . . . 

And then came the denial, _again_ , “Wait, Nico - I - . . .”   
  
It hurt more than it should have, and though he didn’t step out of Joe’s lap, he did move his hands away and began to pull his shirt closed. When he finally found the words, his voice sounded pained, “Still don’t want to?”   
  
Joe leaned closer, resting his forehead against Nico’s shoulder for a moment, “I _want_ to, please know that.” _‘Then why? Why not now?’_ But before he could ask, Joe raised his gaze up to him, looking hesitant and unsure, “The semester is almost over, and I don’t mean to sound impatient, I just - want to know if you ever filled out the paperwork, because the thought of you being gone in six weeks . . .” Nico wanted to answer him, assure him, show him the surprise he had in his back pocket that he had planned to reveal over the weekend, but when he looked down at him, Joe let out a deep breath, and floored him, “I want you to stay, because I am in love with you.”   
  
Nico was shocked, and immediately felt his throat tighten, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to blink around them. He had realized he loved Joe _weeks_ ago, but hadn’t dared to hope his feelings could run as deep as his already. And yet here was, telling him the very things he felt, and that he had made the right choice when he had filled out those forms. Without saying anything, he reached behind him, pulling out the folded piece of paper and opening it between them, “I wanted to show this to you tonight, it’s - it’s my confirmation letter.”   
  
When Joe stared down, Nico watched as the realization set in, and the way his own eyes watered at the sight. He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but couldn’t find the words just yet. His poet, lost for words. Nico moved his fingers along his cheekbone, and when Joe locked his watery eyes with his, he gently confessed, “ _Ti amo_ .”   
  
A relieved chuckle was shared between them, a wet laugh before it died down between them, leaving only the desire. And when Nico cautiously leaned into him, Joe wrapped his arms around his waist and rolled him down onto the bed, “I don’t think I’m ready for everything tonight, Nico. But may I kiss you?”   
  
Nico looked up at him, biting his lip, and already sensitive to the way Joe’s fingertips felt gliding under his shirt, “Where do you want to kiss me?”   
  
Joe already began to lean down, his voice sounding husky with, “ _Everywhere_ .”   
  
Nico closed his eyes, arching his back to press into Joe’s touch.   
It was going to be a wonderful weekend if he could at least kiss Joe everywhere, too.   
  


* * *

**Notes:** yummy . . . *eyebrow wiggle*  
Next up, a holiday partyyyyy <3


	11. Book Club Holiday Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last little truths get revealed . . . and Joe and Nico take a big step in their relationship ~ 
> 
> Please be aware this is where the fic earns that mature rating, but you'll know when it's happening towards the end if you decide you want to skip ahead to the epilogue!
> 
> Also, this chapter goes back and forth between their points of view :)

* * *

_“He is half my soul, as the poets say.”_

* * *

  
  


_One month later . . ._

Nico was currently sitting in Nile’s sculpture class. He hadn’t meant to essentially shadow the class, but it was mostly an art critique of final projects for the year. His own was scheduled in two days, and he had to admit he was slightly nervous how it would go. His professor mentioned that though he would decide the final grade, he did take student input into consideration. So Nico nervously watched how that might play out with Nile’s class, as prospective insight into how his might go. 

But he had trouble keeping a straight face, and was glad he was sitting towards the back. After hearing about seven different students critiquing an art piece, it seemed like there was the full spectrum of responses. Anything and everything to how great the sculpture was, to how it didn’t seem to represent the subject properly, to even which glaze and painting shade was picked. The commentary ranged from serious to comical and Nico wondered if his would go in a similar fashion.

 _‘Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.’_ And he could appreciate that art was interpretive, not everyone was going to enjoy everything, but he did wonder if his project would also have such varied commentary. Maybe he’d even get complaints for how much Joe was featured in his final photo set, but he only tucked his chin close to his chest, not regretting it one bit.  
  
“You ready?” Nile beamed up at him, and Nico nodded, sliding off the chair to follow her to her office.   
  
He had scheduled an appointment with her about his student housing predicament, worried he made another mistake, and now he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Nico had chosen not to fill out a housing form for the next semester, because he had kind of hoped Joe would have asked him to move in by now. Not that he was under the impression they _had_ to just because they had admitted they were in love with one another. But things had been going exceptionally well.   
  
Joe had invited Nico to spend every weekend together in the last month, he had a toiletry bag wedged on Joe’s sink next to his tooth brush. Nico would make lunch for them both at his apartment during the week, and they would sit there together in between classes, before walking across the campus to their respective classes. And during the weeknights, Joe would stay with Nico, in his small bed, curled up against him and Nico never felt more loved and safe. They even went grocery shopping together twice when Joe said he wanted to keep a few items in Nico’s fridge during the week, like he planned on _continuing_ to stay. They had both stopped asking permission to spend the night three weeks ago, simply just _did_ .   
  
Really, they already _were_ living together weren’t they?

But, it was almost Christmas. The semester was over in two days, and he was expected to move out no later than a week. Joe’s food items would have to be emptied from Nico’s fridge, his shirts would have to be unfolded from his dresser.

And he’d have to admit to Joe that he had nowhere to go.

Joe hadn’t asked him to move in yet, but then again, he likely thought Nico still had a place next semester? At least that’s what Nico had _hoped_ was the issue. But when he considered simply asking Joe if he could move in, because he’d be essentially homeless without options, he found himself doubting the idea. The thought of Joe only allowing him to move in because he felt sorry for Nico wounded his own pride. And it felt like a breeding ground for resentment. Because what if Joe got a roommate because he was trying to be kind, but then didn’t feel the same way anymore in a few weeks, or a few months? Could Nico really take that chance in either direction?   
  
What if Keane was right all those months ago. Not that Joe would take advantage of him, but that he was essentially allowing himself to be a _‘kept boyfriend’_? Even if Nico began pulling shifts at Booker’s coffeeshop, he would never have the kind of money Joe seemed to have access to anytime soon. Could he ever really allow Joe to foot the bill, without feeling guilt?

“Nico, you look a million miles away, what’s going on?”

Nile had just closed the door, pulled up the chair beside him, and rested her hands on her crossed forearms, “Is everything alright?”   
  
Nico kept his eyes down, fiddling with his hands as he explained his predicament. That once again he didn’t fill out the forms correctly, but this time, because he _chose_ not to. He shared why he hadn’t and how he had hoped maybe Joe might ask, “. . . But now I’m supposed to be out in a week, and I - don’t have anywhere to go.”  
  
“And you,” Nile sat back in her chair, giving him a curious look, “don’t want to ask Joe if you can stay with him?”  
  
Nico shook his head, uncertain how to explain it, but he tried. Giving her all the reasons why he maybe shouldn’t (his pride, his worry, his financial concerns). He shared everything except the one that really tugged at his heart. But Nile had seen right through him, and asked him to tell what the _‘real’_ reason was. He looked down, and finally admitted it out loud, “What if I dive in - and he tires of me . . . what if it’s all too fast after all?”

Nile tilted her head, and chuckled, “It’s love, gotta take a chance sometime? Besides, you’re like his Achilles, Nico. You’re all over his art, and he’s all over yours.”

That made him smile to himself, “I think I’m more Patroclus. Or well, maybe both. Just like Joe is both, too.”  
  
She gave him a gentle nudge with her shoulder, “The duality of man?”

“Something like that,” he chuckled, before releasing a deep exhale, “so basically, just go for it, and tell him how I feel and that I want him to ask me to move in?”  
  
“Basically,” she chirped, somehow completely confident that it was just _that_ easy.  
  
And Nico contemplated a plan. Considered how asking meant that he’d likely have to admit his financial predicament (well the final pieces he hadn’t already). It wasn’t so much that he thought Joe would say _‘no’_ , more like he was worried he’d be judged by him, or his family, _eventually_ . That one day, Joe would no longer want him, and then what? But what if it did work out . . . what if this was the start of a beautiful life together?  
  
It would be a big step, and he wanted to be able to assure him that he was just as serious about him, as he suspected Joe was, “I want to do something special for him, something big. Show him just how serious I am, and how much he means to me.” He looked over at Nile, who seemed to already be thinking of options.   
  
“He’s always so happy to tell everybody and anybody how much he cares about me, and he wrote me a poem, Nile - I mean - _Dio_ . I think it would mean a lot if I made some big gesture for him - well _once_ ,” he practically snorted at potentially making a fool of himself in front of a crowd, “I don’t know if my nerves could handle it too often.”

Nile shot him a sly smile, “I know _exactly_ what you can do . . . “  
  


  
_Joe_

_Later that night . . ._

Joe was holding Nico’s hand as they were making their way to the bookstore where Booker and Nile were hosting the annual Book Club Holiday Party. They had gone all out with the decorations of a winter wonderland theme of blues, whites and silvers. The coffee bar had seasonal treats, the stage was decorated, and soft stringed lights were crowding most of the ceiling. It was downright romantic, and Joe squeezed Nico’s hand tighter, utterly grateful to be there in the moment with him. He had held off on sharing his final project for his poetry class, planning on reading it to him after they got back to his apartment. It was a sort of holiday present for him, though he had a bigger gift already wrapped, digging a hole in his back pocket.   
  
Nico had seemed like he was thinking of a few things, a little fidgety, but when he asked him about it he insisted it was _‘all fine’_ , and that he was just nervous about people hopefully liking the dish he brought. Tonight’s small gathering was a potluck, and Joe was currently balancing a box of wine under his arm, while Nico had made baked ziti. It would need to be reheated and when they arrived Booker helped him load it into the small oven in the back of the store.

He had every intention of helping him with it, but Nile said she needed his help with the curtain near the karaoke machine. So Nico disappeared into the small kitchen area, and Joe helped Nile, while more book club members filtered inside. Once it was all said and done Joe was about to follow Nile off the stage, when he turned around and saw none other than Nico standing there, with a guitar already strapped around his shoulders. He took in the sight of him, and asked with a curious smile, “Are you performing?”

Nico bit his bottom lip, glancing up from the guitar, “ _Si_ .”  
  
Joe was surprised, because Nico tended to prefer to remain in the background. He wasn’t exactly shy, especially considering his willingness to model nude. But he definitely wasn’t attention seeking either. Him volunteering to perform in front of the crowd seemed out of character to Joe. Because even with the compliments and the urging, Nico hadn’t sang to him since that very first day he had heard him. Yet he was going to do it now? In front of everyone? “Is this my holiday present?”  
  
Nico nodded quietly, and tipped his head to the crowd, “So, take a seat, and I’ll try not to mess it up.”  
  
Joe gave him a lopsided grin, practically hopped down, and took a seat with Nile and Booker. Most of the club members had also taken seats, and though there was the karaoke machine, it seemed Nico was going to keep it simple with just the guitar. He tapped the microphone once, just to make sure it was on, and greeted everyone, “Happy holidays - “ Some members returned the sentiment, before he shared what he was doing on the stage, “I wanted to say ‘thank you’ to everyone here for welcoming me so easily and I really appreciate it. I’m going to sing a song for my boyfriend, I think you know him - “ Several of them laughed, because they tended to be all over each other at the meetings, “Joe, will you wave so everyone knows who you are?” 

Joe stood up for a moment, playfully waving both his hands, and they laughed harder, before he sat back down, “In all seriousness, I wanted to give him a little gift and felt like this was as good as time as any. I’m not really one for big displays of well, much of anything, but I would like to tell him how much he means to me. And how I didn’t realize what I was even looking for till I met him. So Joe - “ He looked directly at him, and surely he had to see the tears already forming in his eyes at Nico’s beautiful words, “This is for you.”  
  
Joe recognized the song, [ _‘I Was Broken’_ by Marcus Foster ](https://www.bing.com/search?form=EX0023&pc=MOZI&q=marcus+foster+i+was+broken+accoustic&shtp=GetUrl&shid=70f5fb79-40cf-40e9-b30f-52a32d72754a&shtk=TWFyY3VzIEZvc3RlciAtIEkgV2FzIEJyb2tlbiAvLyBUaGUgQ3J5cHQgU2Vzc2lvbnM%3D&shdk=RG9uJ3QgZm9yZ2V0IHRvIHN1YnNjcmliZSBmb3IgbW9yZSBDcnlwdCBTZXNzaW9uczogaHR0cDovL2JpdC5seS9jcnlwdHNlc3Npb25zc3Vic2NyaWJlIFdhdGNoIE1hcmN1cyBGb3N0ZXIgcGVyZm9ybSAnRmFpbnQgU3RpciBPZiBNYWRuZXNzJyBoZXJlOiBodHRwOi8veW91dHUuYmUvYm4tR2lub3dUajAgV2F0Y2ggTWFyY3VzIEZvc3RlciBwZXJmb3JtICdOYW1lbGVzcyBQYXRoJyBoZXJlOiBodHRwOi8veW91dHUuYmUvT083NVFkME9idTAgTWFyY3VzIEZvc3RlciBwZXJmb3JtcyAnSSBXYXMgQnJva2VuJyBmb3IgVGhlIENyeXB0IFNlc3Npb25zIC0tLS0tLS0tLS0tLS0tLS0tLS0tLS0tIE1hcmN1cyAuLi4%3D&shhk=Tlx6avnaSEWGBZO5dW2DngyXN%2FRwwonhC8BP6Iq%2FnOk%3D&shth=OSH.VtZpqPxGtvJTz7vxdn01Rw) , and it sounded even more beautiful with the acoustic chords of the guitar. But once again, Joe found himself lost in the utterly smooth, melodic voice of Nico flowing over him. Soft at first, like he was still trying to find the right amount of strength to add to the notes, but by the time he reached the chorus, he allowed his voice to carry:   
  
_‘I was tied, but now unbound_

_My head is off the ground_

_For a long time I was so weary_

_Tired of the sound, I've heard before_

_The gnawing of the night time at the door_

_Haunted by the things I've made_

_Stuck between the burning light and the dust shade.’_

_  
_His hands moved so gracefully over the strings, the sounds from the guitar paired seamlessly with his voice, and Joe felt one tear slide down his cheek. Nico was doing this for him, as his present? To say how much he cared about him? Whatever the reason, he was utterly mesmerized as he began to slow down the strumming to allow his voice to rise above the notes. _  
  
_

_‘But I will stand here till the end, I know that I can take the moon_

_In between the burning shade and the fading light_

_I was broken, for a long time, but it's over now.’_

_Nico_   
  


Nico had barely finished with the last chord, eyes still closed, when he felt Joe stepping onto the stage reaching for him among the roaring sounds of applause. It made him think of the _‘Song of Achilles’_ , how he would recognize that touch, even in the dark. And when he felt Joe’s warm hands on his cheeks, he opened his hazy eyes in time to see Joe’s shiny ones, barely letting out a small wet laugh, before leaning in to kiss him. It wasn’t a deep one, more in gratitude than passionate, but the members whooped and hollered, and Nico pulled back with flushed cheeks, suddenly more embarrassed when he remembered the audience.

“ _Nico Di Genova_ ,” Joe fawned over him, and Nico raised a hand to cover the more shaky one on his cheek, “You _keep_ surprising me.”

  
Nico hoped his other surprise would go over as well.

  
_Joe_

Joe and Nico had just made it back to his building, walking hand in hand down the hallway to his door in comfortable silence with Nico carrying the empty casserole container that was voted _‘best dish’_ by the club. But just before he could reach for his keys to unlock the apartment, he felt Nico shift beside him, “Joe, can I ask you about something?”  
  
“Out here?”  
  
“I just - yes, here,” Nico cast his eyes downwards, “I’m not sure if you’d still want me to spend the night after I ask.”  
  
“What?” Joe took a step closer, hands cupping his face, “Why would you think that?”  
  
Nico raised his hands to Joe’s wrists, and let out a deep sigh, “I - had a meeting with Nile earlier today. And - I told her how I didn’t fill out my student housing form for next semester.”  
  
“On purpose?” Joe glided his thumbs over Nico’s cheekbones, hoping he wasn’t misunderstanding. Had he changed his mind about wanting to stay another semester?   
  
“Yes - I -,” he paused, and Joe almost worried his fear was about to come true, “I had kind of hoped you might have asked me to move in with you instead.” Joe was floored, but before he could even respond Nico hurriedly added, “Because we’ve spent so much time together already, and we already sort of live together, but I realized I might have _assumed_ you wanted me to move in. And that’s my fault -” His bright eyes shifted away, embarrassed, “and I haven’t filled out the form and now I have nowhere to live in a week, and Nile said I could stay with her while they figure out something but - “  
  
“Nico,” Joe hoped he could see the sincerity in his face, “Do you want to stay with me?”  
  
“I - don’t want to pressure you, because Nile said she could help me find something,” Nico relented.  
  
He tried again, his own gift for Nico digging into the back pocket of his jeans, “But do you _want_ to live with me?”  
  
Nico leaned his head forward a little, pressing into the touch of Joe’s hands, “Yes, I want that.”  
  
Joe lowered his right hand, reaching behind him for the small, poorly wrapped, holiday present, “I was planning on giving this to you tonight.”  
  
When he unwrapped it, and held a copy of Joe’s apartment key between his thumb and index finger, Nico’s bottom lip quivered, “Joe - “  
  
“I was going to ask you to stay with me just as soon as the semester was over, and before you’d move into your dorm for the next one,” he widened his stance a little, leveling his eyes with Nico’s, “but I had no idea you were going to be essentially homeless in a few days, why did you wait so long to tell me?”  
  
Nico sighed, “I have so much more to tell you.”  
  
“What’s wrong?”

Nico didn’t answer right away, simply leaned his forehead against Joe’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders. They stayed like that for a moment, before Nico finally asked if they could _‘go inside and sit down’_ . Joe rubbed his back lightly, and pulled back slightly, “Want to use your key?”   
  
He swiped at the tear at the corner of his eyes, and chuckled, “Definitely.”  
  
Once inside, Nico took a seat on the couch, and Joe went and got him a glass of water. When he took a seat beside him, Nico took a sip, placing the glass on the coffee table before snuggling against Joe’s chest. He kept his head down, ear pressed close to his heart, and Joe ran his fingers over Nico’s hair, allowing the strands to glide between the digits. He didn’t want to rush him, but he was glad when Nico began momentarily.   
  
He told him how he had messed up his financial aid package, and how for several weeks he lived off barely twenty dollars a week for food. How he practically foraged through the student free shelf, how he budgeted, scrimped every penny, and worked odd jobs. Joe had usually brought over dinner during the week, or was greeted by home cooked meals already prepared when he arrived at Nico’s apartment. He so rarely looked inside his fridge that he hadn’t noticed the patterns of it being near empty. More than once Nico had said he had just gotten too busy to go to the grocery store. Joe had chalked it up to him being a busy student, with a busy schedule. He had never suspected, or even considered, that there were days that Nico was hungry.   
  
He held him tighter, deeply saddened that he hadn’t seen the signs.  
  
But it was when Nico told him about his encounter with Keane, that he raised his head from the back of the couch, frustration twisting at his core. When he finished explaining it all, he cautiously looked up at Joe, who curled the hand in his lap into a fist, “I’m glad my classes are over, otherwise I might have outright punched that man if I had to see him tomorrow.”  
  
And Nico, bless him, so timid to share about his struggles - tried to make light of the situation. Likely trying to help cool his irritation, “Trying to defend my honor?”  
  
“Your honor is more than intact, you’re the most honorable person I know,” Joe retorted, his eyes watching Nico’s hand moving towards him, “I would have punched him for smearing my reputation out of jealousy.”  
  
Nico’s fingers curved over his, head resting on his tense shoulders, “I don’t feel honorable, not when I lied to you about things going on with me.”  
  
“I’ll admit, I don’t like the idea that you thought I was going to judge you for that, or ‘resent’ you down the line,” he took a breath to help cool his nerves, refusing to allow Keane of all people to seep into this moment. Instead he uncurled his fist, and slotted his fingers with Nico’s, “But I guess I’ll just have to assure you every day of my intentions.”  
  
Nico seemed downright relieved, “ _Still_ an incurable romantic.”  
  
“Babe, you haven’t seen anything,” Joe sat up a little straighter, “I have another surprise for you. My poem.”  
  
He had finished it just last week, his final project of the semester, and he was more than ready to share it with Nico, “You’re finally gonna let me read it?”  
  
Joe gave him a soft grin, “Can I read it to you?”  
  
Nico beamed, downright thrilled, considering Joe had only allowed him to see a few snippets of his previous poetry. But this one, was all about Nico, and he wanted to wait till it was finished before he shared it with him. Joe stepped up, reaching for his hands and invited him into the bedroom. _‘Well, our bedroom now’_. They’d still need to talk about moving his stuff in, and how they planned on combining things, but all that could wait. Tonight was all about romancing Nico. 

He had already arranged some candles around the room, and invited Nico to take a seat on the bed, while he went around lighting them. Joe didn’t expect anything to happen tonight, but he finally felt ready if Nico was, too, and considering how much they had explored each other’s bodies over the last month - some days barely making it behind closed doors before pulling each other’s pants down - Joe suspected, and hoped, that more could happen.   
  
But first, he wanted to pause and express his feelings. So he reached into his nightstand, and pulled out the printed paper, while Nico leaned back against the headboard. Sitting down beside him, he unfolded it, and Nico settled against his shoulder, hands wrapped around his arm: 

“My heart is no longer within me  
It moves and breathes on its own

My heart walks beside me

And beside him I never feel alone

I have passed by a thousand eyes

But I only wander within his

I have seen a thousand statues

And none are carved like him”

He could feel Nico’s hands tighten around his arm, clinging to him as he read, but Joe was just getting started. He lowered his poem down to his lap, not needing to see the words to finish sharing it. The words were imprinted on his heart:  
  


“His warmth will still my coldest nights

And in the darkness, it is his touch that brings me back to life.

His kiss will thrill me for all my days

My heart walks beside me, it is here to stay.”  
  


When he folded the paper in his hand, and Nico realized he was done, he practically _leapt_ into his lap. Joe only had a moment to take in his watery eyes, before his mouth slammed against his, and he _whimpered_ against his lips before deepening the kiss easily. Joe pushed him back onto the bed, and they kissed until they were both left breathless, panting, needy messes. And when Joe finally pulled back, balancing on shaky elbows, Nico’s fingers clutched his shirt to keep him close. He looked downright wild with his hair spread out around his head, his gleaming eyes, and flushed cheeks, “Please, _please_ , Joe - how can you not make love to me after saying all that to me?”  
  
Joe’s hips dipped into the space between Nico’s legs, equally desperate, but wanting to make sure they were clear first, “You’ll move in with me this weekend? You’ll stay?”  
  
He tried pulling him down more, but Joe’s arms were stronger, and firmly locked. He really did need the words from Nico, “I want to - please, I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”  
  
“Want to? Or will stay?,” he teased with a smirk, but Nico must have caught the concern in his eyes. The real truth was that he didn’t want to do this unless the other person was just as serious about their future together. And even now, even when Nico released his tight grip and slowly moved his fingers up to his face, Joe worried. Worried that he could leave at any moment. His heart, no longer walking beside him.   
  
“Joe,” his voice was sympathetic, and when their eyes locked, Nico gave him a soft smile, “I love you. I’m here to stay.”  
  
Joe lowered himself more, relieved, and Nico’s hands roamed over his shoulders as their lips met again. This time it was less frenzied, languid, long, lazy kisses until Nico tilted his head to the side so Joe could roam his kisses down the column of his pale neck. A month of having the privilege to study his body had allowed him to know exactly how to get Nico panting with need, but this time, he wasn’t going to stop by swallowing him into his mouth . . . this time, he pulled back, and reached for the lube and condom he had bought days ago.   
  
Nico tugged at his own shirt, already starting to push his pants down as Joe worked on getting himself naked as well. And though they had seen each other dozens of times by now, taken showers together, felt each other tremble beneath the other’s hands, and mouths . . . this was different. And they both paused, knowing it.   
  
Joe kneeled down along the edge of the bed, and Nico tenderly reached for him, before pulling them both down onto the bed. He kissed the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth, and stared up at him with hooded eyes, “I love you so much, Joe.”  
  
He felt the heat between their legs, the way they rubbed against one another, and Joe leaned down until they were almost chest to chest, “I love you, my heart.”  
  
Nico groaned and arched his back, pressing more against his body, and Joe lowered his head allowing it hover over his sternum. He began to trail open mouth kisses along his collarbone, working down to his chest, and when he curled his tongue along the sensitive bud, Nico’s fingers tightened in his curls. He had planned to take his time, relish every flick of his tongue, every moan, but when Nico urged him downwards Joe figured he had made him wait long enough. Made them both wait long enough.  
  
His lips swiped along his hip bone, and Nico’s thighs trembled as they widened to make room for him. Though they had kissed each other, this was the first time Joe would be aiming lower, the first time he explored there, and Nico tilted his hips up in a silent plea to begin.   
  
He was worried he had gotten too excited and that his slicked finger had been too rough anyways when Nico hissed a little, but he hurriedly assured him to _‘keep going’_ , begged him to in fact. With more effort, once he was three fingers deep, Nico moaned he was ready for him. Joe wondered if one day they would be together long enough that he would go bare with him, but for tonight he rolled the condom over his length, and resettled between Nico’s eager legs.  
  
Nico clung to him desperately, and Joe wrapped his hands around him, one behind head, and the other cupped under his jaw, close to his neck. He wanted to look into his bright eyes when he entered him, and when he dipped forward, Nico’s lips parted on a gasp, before letting out a stuttering moan. He had never looked more beautiful to Joe, _felt_ more beautiful, then when he slowly sank down deeper into him.   
  
It took effort not to buck forward, but he wanted to make sure Nico had time to adjust. But when he was fully seated inside of him, they both let out a relieved sigh, breathing around the new sensations - the perfection of how amazing it felt to be united so intimately. Joe practically shook with the efforts of restraint, wanting him to be comfortable, but was grateful when Nico moved underneath him, encouraging him to continue.   
  
He began slowly with shallow thrusts, before finding a rhythm that made them both moan. 

When Nico began to meet his undulating hips, chasing after his own pleasure, Joe went faster and dipped his face against this neck. He sucked on the flesh near the curve of the shoulder, all sounds around him being encased by Nico’s groans of pleasure, before he felt his legs curl around his waist. It allowed for an even _deeper_ angle, and Joe felt his eyes roll before he closed them, panting his name over and over again as he went _harder_ .  
  
Nico’s fingers pressed into his shoulder blades, his heels crossed over his lower back, and a moment later, Joe felt him tremble beneath him, releasing between their stomachs. The sensations of him clamping down on him, knowing that Nico had found his pleasure, encouraged him to chase after his own. He bucked harder, his legs tightening from the effort, and sweat beginning to bead at his hairline. He felt downright dizzy, closing his eyes as his vision filled with white light, stilling as his lower half trembled through his orgasm.   
  
And Joe knew he never wanted to feel any one else underneath him ever again.  
  
He practically collapsed into Nico’s waiting arms, his limbs slowly unraveling from around Joe as he began to trace his fingertips along his back. He pressed his ear close to Nico’s heart, hearing him hum a soft tune that vibrated in his chest, utterly content.  
  
Joe closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

 _‘I love you,’_ someone said, but he wasn’t even sure who.  
  


* * *

  
  


**Notes:** This is fine *sniffs* everything's fine


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We deserve a soft epilogue" <3
> 
> This is a short epilogue, mostly in summary form, that takes place six months later :)  
> See you in the end notes!

* * *

_ “I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me.” _

* * *

  
_Nico_   
  


Nico and Joe were disembarking from the plane that had just landed in Italy.

It took awhile for him to come around to the idea of Joe wanting to pay for them to fly over, but he relented after Joe sneakily asked a translator to handle a video call with his family as a ‘surprise’ for his birthday two months earlier. Nico had introduced Joe after Christmas to his family, and of course he had managed to charm them easily. So naturally, when he said he would love to buy tickets for the summer after their semester to meet them all  _ ‘properly’ _ , they practically swooned and hounded Nico for being  _ ‘so prideful’ _ , and  _ ‘just let him buy the tickets already’ _ .    
  
Nico was still getting used to a full fridge, and a bigger place, but a plane ride back home was something else entirely. Yet when they stepped out of the airport, and Nico was able to order a cab in Italian, and feel the familiar air on his skin, he had to admit that maybe he had been a bit stubborn about Joe’s generosity.    
  
He had insisted that as soon as their semester was over, he’d find something full time to contribute ‘his share’. And luckily Quynh was able to find him a position at the museum helping to organize and categorize files behind a desk. It wasn't the glamorous art job he had been hoping for, but it did allow him to free up his nights and weekends with Joe and their friends, and he still had another year at the college to network and hopefully find something more related to his field once he graduated.   
  
But his portfolio was coming along nicely, though his professor _had_ pointed out that his final project for the year was  _ ‘all things Joe’ _ , and he wasn’t wrong. Joe’s professors said the same thing to him when he shared no less than _four_ canvas paintings of Nico in various poses for his student exhibit review. 

Yet no matter how many times their friends called their art  _ ‘mushy romance’ _ , they were no less supportive, and even teased about when they were going to  _ ‘get engaged’ _ next.    
  
If Nico was being honest, he had wondered the same thing, but just because they had moved fast in the beginning didn’t mean that he was expecting them to keep up with that pace. He truly was happy just living together. It was a surprisingly easy transition, and they moved around another as they had from the beginning: in harmony within each other’s orbits. They encouraged one another, made art beside each other, and made love to one another. Just being in Joe’s arms every night was a blessing he hoped never to take for granted.

They knew that they wanted to be together for the foreseeable future, what more could he ever ask for? 

_ Joe _

The ring was burning a hole in his carry on bag.   
  
The reason for this trip was to meet Nico’s family - but it was _ also _ to ask their blessing for his hand in marriage. He had already discussed it with his own parents, who had met Nico and told their son that they better not let him  _ ‘slip away’ _ . And he had no intention of letting him. They had been together almost a year, and though they did have one more year to go, nothing said they couldn’t get engaged and then get married after they graduated. He was certain Nico would say  _ ‘yes’ _ , but even knowing that, Joe was nervous when he did propose at sunset a few days later, on a hill that overlooked the small village Nico was born in.

When they came back that night, Nico’s family gathered in his parents' small home - a whole large group of aunts, uncles, and cousins congratulating them till the early hours of the morning. He knew it might turn out to require some coordination, but Joe realized they would need two small weddings. One in America, and one in Italy. He couldn’t imagine not making vows in front of both families. And when he told him as much after the gathering, Nico was in tears and told him how  _ ‘amazing’ _ he was. Joe clung to him, and said he was happy to marry him  _ ‘over and over again’ _ , around a wet laugh. 

And even though he planned on buying a matching band to wear around campus, it was the tattoos they got before they flew back, that felt more ‘them’. Inked on the underside of their ring fingers -  [ his was a sun, and Nico’s a moon ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/324540716903389880/) . They enjoyed thinking of the imagery, of how they were like the sun, and the moon, different as could be, but sharing the sky together. 

And just like Achilles and Patroclus, when they reached for one another in the darkness, a flood of light spilled over into their lives, and they knew they were blessed for it.

* * *

**Notes:** and that's it you guys! <3  
I so hope you enjoyed it, and please feel free to leave kudos and comments :)  
  
BIG THANK YOU TO THE OLD GUARD BIG BANG 2021 EVENT GROUP

And happy Valentine's Day!


End file.
